Red Eye Reconciliation
by NicolinaN
Summary: Sequel to Red Eye Revelations. Jackson is in hospital, recovering from the gunshots. Lisa is unharmed, but barely hanging on. None of them can stop thinking about the events during and after the red eye flight to Miami.
1. I'll Always Find You

**Red Eye Reconciliation**

**Summary: **Sequel to Red Eye Revelations.Jackson is in hospital, recovering from the gunshots. Lisa is unharmed, but barely hanging on. None of them can stop thinking about the events during and after the red eye-flight to Miami. Rated M for upcoming mature content.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters of Jackson and Lisa; they are just too good not to develop a little further. And, oh yeah, if I WAS Wes Craven; I'd do a sequel!

**Feedback: **If I could ask for anything…. Yes, please. That's what keeps us writers going. It's our fuel, our inspiration, our support.

**-**

**-**

**Chapter 1 I'll Always Find You**

-

They had to lift her off him.

As they took him away, Lisa finally let her dad embrace her in his safe arms. She kept her eyes locked with Jackson's unreadable blue until he was out of sight. Listening to the sounds of the sirens as the ambulance drove off, the same question kept repeating in her mind.

_Why?_

-

-

The first day passed in a blur, there was so much work to do. The police had to follow Lisa back from Blossom Palms Lane to the hotel, to be able to start questioning her; she was unstoppable when something called for her attention, and Cynthia and the Lux Atlantic needed her - badly.

Maybe she needed the Lux Atlantic and Cynthia badly as well…

She had the police on her tail almost the whole day, which annoyed her to no end. They even called in a psychologist and a doctor, thinking Lisa was in shock and needed medical as well as psychological help.

It was possible she was in shock, but she didn't want anybody's attention.

Instead she fought them off. She needed to work – she had to do something to fill the void within that grew with every breath she took.

"Miss Reisert." The doctor tried to make her stop, but he ended up running alongside her, panting, his heavy body unable to keep up with Lisa's efficient strides. "What you've been through - it will take time to heal, and you need – _gasp_ - to give it that time." He stopped for a while, supporting himself against a wall with a hand. When he realized that Lisa was once again ahead of him, he lengthened his steps. "You're suffering from PTSD, Miss, post-traumatic-stress-disorder, and you need to listen to me."

_YOU are going to suffer from LIPB – Lisa Induced Pain in the Butt - if you don't get off my BACK! And I'm a good fighter, ask Jackson Rippner._

Lisa halted; little red angry spots had appeared on her cheeks.

"No, no, YOU need to listen to me!" She nailed him for a moment, her intense brownish green eyes flashed. "I KNOW what I've been through, and I know what needs to be done."

Suddenly she looked very tired. Only three hours had passed since Jackson had been lying, bleeding and weak on her dad's marble floor. The memory of the sight didn't leave her for one second. _Is he…alive… dead… hurting…_

"Leave me alone, doc. I'll call you if I need you… OK?" she said a little softer. Then she left the doctor with a face like a pale full moon, alone in a corridor in the middle of the giant hotel, gaping and wondering what hit him.

Finally they left her alone.

Lisa could be very persuasive.

After meeting with a grateful Keefe, fighting off absurd hotel guests complaining about the mess the missile had created, and having briefed her shocked staff, she and Cynthia opened the bar. It was ten a.m. Opening a bottle of the best champagne, they celebrated the successful outcome of the horrible morning.

The simple fact that they were all alive.

An indefinable feeling of loss nagged at Lisa the whole time, though. She wondered if Jackson was still alive, if he was in pain, and what he would do to her if he somehow got free.

'_I wanted him to see what I'm gonna do to you first…'_ _'Too late, Leese…'_

Jackson's words still rang in her ears and they chilled her heart. Lisa had no doubt that she'd be in a very real danger… if… unless…

Still she couldn't even finish the thought that he might be dead.

Cynthia's huge green eyes grew even wider as Lisa told her hour by hour what had happened. Lisa played with the thought of telling Cynthia the full extent of her encounter with Jackson, but she was afraid that if she put words to her feelings, they would grow. If anything, they needed to diminish – evaporate.

Lisa wasn't very effective that afternoon and evening. The sleep deprivation and the alcohol co-worked to slow her down. She was still able to make arrangements with the insurance company as well as with a building contractor, so the outcome of the disastrous day wasn't so bad after all.

Not until around ten p.m. did Lisa set foot in her home again – in her own beautiful small beach house. She hadn't seen it since morning two days ago.

It felt like ages.

Without brushing her teeth, she stumbled to bed and fell on the cover, not even bothering with her shoes. She was so tired; she knew she wouldn't have any troubles falling asleep.

And then sleep refused to come.

She tried reading a book, but was unable to concentrate. She did everything; brushed her teeth, changed into her pyjama and drank a glass of warm milk - and later a small scotch - and much later a large scotch.

Tossing and turning in bed, she watched the hours pass on the red digital numbers on her alarm clock, listening to the sounds of the ocean outside. It was humid and still windy and as her house shook, she re-lived the experiences on the bumpy airplane the previous night, seeing Jackson's bright blue eyes before her – friendly and beaming, or cold and deadly.

Finally, falling in and out of sleep, she had vivid dreams. They all involved Jackson, and they all ended differently. In some of them he killed her in various ways. In some her dad was killed. In some Jackson died. In some he raped her… and in a few she consented…

_Pulling her head back by her hair, Jackson stared enraged at her. Lisa's eyes widened in fear as she saw that there was no soul in his blue eyes, they were as empty as if nothing had ever lived there. She tried to scream, but he crushed his lips on hers. At first she became aroused, then he tore his face away from her, and in his mouth she saw a piece of her own flesh. Lisa screamed then- _

- and woke.

"_Dad?" she shouted. She was back in the kitchen. Running frantically to get past a wheezing Jackson, she almost stumbled over her father who lay with his face down on the floor. "I wanted him to see what I'm gonna do to you first," Jackson hissed with his wounded vocal cords. Lisa flipped her dad over and screamed and screamed. Instead of his eyes there was just gaping holes. Looking up at Jackson, she scrambled backwards in terror as she saw him holding her father's eyes in his hand. Lisa fell-_

-out of her bed, entangled in her sheets and in full panic.

_Jackson looked admiringly at her. "You are the most amazing woman, Leese." He kissed her on the forehead and she felt flutters of delight surge through her belly. Her skin burned where he had touched it. He threaded his fingers through her hair and gripped it firmly, but not painfully. "Just don't ever lie to me." Then he sank down on her and she could feel him closer than she had ever felt any man before. As he began to climax, buried deep inside of her, Lisa moaned louder and louder- _

-until she woke.

_No, no, no, NO!_

Each time she woke, she was sweaty, wrapped in her sheets and swearing that she would bury everything about Jackson deep inside and never look at it again.

The next few days followed pretty much the same pattern of long days with hard work, interrupted by attempts at evading the media that haunted her, and random interrogations, mostly with a nice police investigator named Turner. Officer Dean Turner. He became a regular visitor at the hotel and sometimes in her home the following weeks up until the hearing and her days in court; investigating the events leading up to the murder attempt at the Keefe's. He was a gentle, shy, balding man in his forties, and it was obvious that he liked Lisa – a lot. The feelings weren't mutual.

And Lisa couldn't sleep.

-

-

One week after the red-eye flight, she collapsed at work, crying and exhausted. Her dad picked her up and drove her to their family doctor, Dr Wender. She had known him since she was a child. Lisa wanted so much to please him and answer his careful questions, but she was still unable to tell what really hurt her, what the severe insomnia was really about.

Leaving Dr Wender with a prescription for sleeping pills, she felt like she had lost it. She had believed she had won the battle against Jackson when, in reality, she had lost it.

And finally, she slept, heavily dreamless.

Taking a few days off, she wandered for hours along the ocean, always freezing even if it was sunny and warm weather. Jackson was alive – and he was going to live. Turner had promised her that Jackson would face a long time in jail and that she had nothing to worry about.

_You don't know the meaning of worry._

In a moment of weakness, she drove to the hospital where Jackson was being held and slowly recovering. She even took a coffee in the cafeteria. It was a breathtaking feeling, knowing he was in this very building.

Suddenly, she saw his eyes as clear as if he was sitting in front of her. Shuddering, she rose quickly. Lisa leaved the foyer in a hurry, rushing back to her car with an eerie feeling of being watched.

-

-

Four weeks after the events on the Red Eye-flight to Miami, there was a trial while Jackson was still at the hospital. They were never able to find out who the men on the ship had been, or who had ordered the murder, and Jackson was the only one in the secret organisation he worked for that could be prosecuted. Investigations continued of course, but the evidence against Jackson was overwhelming and at least he could be trialled.

He was sentenced to eight years in prison. No one had died, and he himself had been seriously injured, which made the jury pity him. Also he'd had a clean record from before and the prosecutor had been unable to prove that Jackson was a notorious criminal.

Lisa never had a doubt, though. He'd known perfectly well what he'd been doing.

Jackson didn't say a word during or after the trial. If he had, though – if he'd put on that irresistible charm, he would probably have had to serve half the time in jail.

_Why didn't he?_

As Lisa testified, he looked up from his hospital bed, where he could follow the courtroom events via live transmission. His pale face was closed, serious, not showing any emotion what so ever, and Lisa felt like he looked directly at her. His eyes, the blue in them impossible to see through the screen, bore into her. To her they held a promise – or a threat. The promise of a threat…

It was impossible of course.

He couldn't see her.

Lisa never spoke to anyone about her and Jackson's… – more personal encounters. She tried to avoid thinking of them at all, but still they haunted her, in her dreams as well as during daytime. It was like they shared something she could never explain to anyone. She suspected Jackson might know what she felt, though…

Not that she would ever ask him.

And the void grew.

-

-

Just a couple of days after the sentence had fallen, Jackson was considered well enough to be transported to prison.

The car was found later, the two guards had their throats slashed.

Jackson was gone.

-

-

Late that evening, when Lisa was watching an old movie, the phone rang. Muttering, she got up. "All right, all right. I'm coming." She lifted the phone. "Hello."

At the other end of the line there was just a static noise. "Hello!" No one answered. _Well, even if it's the wrong number, just say so! _She hung up and got back to her movie.

A minute later it called again. She rushed to the phone, slightly agitated. "Yes, who is this?" Still the same static noise filled her ear. _Perv!_ A flicker of worry shadowed her heart for a moment and she glanced out her windows at the darkness outside, seeing nothing but her own reflection.

A couple of minutes later the phone rang once more. Lisa jumped and snapped the phone out of its holder. "What!" she snarled.

"Eh.. Hi, I'm sorry to bother you at this late hour. It's Dean Turner, I – It's… I need to speak with you." The man at the other end stumbled on his words and Lisa felt bad for being so harsh.

"Officer Turner, I'm sorry, I – Eh… Did you call just a minute ago?"

"No… I didn't. Why?"

"Oh, nothing." She shrugged it off. "What did you want to tell me?"

"It's about Jackson -"

Lisa froze; this was the call she'd feared for so long. _He's dead!_

"- during the transport to the prison earlier tonight…" Turner hesitated. "Ms Reisert, he's escaped and I fear for your safety."

_Oh – My – God! _Lisa sank down onto the nearest chair, her legs too weak to carry her.

"Lisa?" She could hear the worry in his voice.

"Where is he? Do you think he's coming for me?" _What a stupid question, Leese!_

"We don't know that. It wouldn't be very clever, because we'll put surveillance on you, but given the obvious – that he tried before… Perhaps you shouldn't be alone right now, until we know more."

_Oh, but he IS clever._

Lisa nodded and rose so hastily that she felt dizzy. "I'll pack my stuff."

"You want me to come by and drive you someplace?"

"No, no… it's… I'll be fine. I have somewhere to go."

After hanging up, Lisa rushed through her home with a frightening feeling of being watched.

It was him.

The call.

She knew it with a certainty that scared her. Her scar itched, the almost-healed fissure in the rib ached and she was quickly developing a headache. Her whole body was trying to tell her the same thing.

It was HIM!

Her heart pounded as she hastily packed a bag with some necessities. _What does he want?_ A part of her wanted him to find her, to – no, she didn't know WHAT she wanted…

She saw him in front of her in their last moments together. The look on his face… _And the KISS._

'_Too late, Leese.'_ His words rang in her ears. No, all he wanted was to see her die.

To 'finish the job'.

Exceeding most speed limits as she drove her SUV through town, she went to her job. She'd sleep in the office. With all the people around, she felt safe enough. Going to her dad's was out of the question; she couldn't put him in danger all over again.

_Tomorrow… I'll figure out what to do._

The night portiere, Jake something, looked surprised when she showed up at this hour. She waved at him, but didn't bother to give him any explanation. It was none of his business.

Borrowing some sheets, a blanket and a pillow, she made a bed out of her couch. It was quite OK, actually. She didn't know how long she would stay, she'd sleep here tonight and then she'd think it over. She could go to her mom's… or ask the police to help her… She loathed that, though, she didn't want to give up her life because HE threatened her. She wanted him to know that she wasn't scared, that he couldn't win.

Slowly, she settled as she let the sleeping pill she'd taken have its effect. After a while, she fell into a deep sleep with dark dreams she didn't remember the next morning, haunted by demons with eerie blue eyes.

_Jackson, please don't kill me._

-

-

Jackson was eternally grateful to his associates that had gotten him out of the transport.

He had been expecting it of course, they were a tight little organisation and every soul was needed as they each had their own special field of knowledge. He hadn't heard a word during his long stay at the hospital, which had worried him. He surely hadn't planned on spending eight years in jail.

Now they had some work to do. They needed to hack into the systems, erasing his records – to once more clean his slate; then they had to sort this mess with Keefe out, see what needed to be done to mend the mistake.

And then there were his issues with a certain little redhead hotel manager with a temper that could start or end world wars…

The very first thing he had done, after they had dropped him off outside his place, was to call Lisa Reisert. He wanted her to know. He wanted her to be afraid – because he WAS coming for her.

Not a single day – not a single fucking hour – had gone by without him thinking of her. He'd had time to plan his revenge on her. Initially, it had revolved around blood shedding, to hurt her in different ways, even to rape her, to punish her by re-playing the worst moment of her life, the thought still made him feel...

Rape wasn't really about sex, though, it was only one of many ways to execute power. With Lisa it would be low - way too low. He could overpower her in more refined ways than that…

As he was finally free, he realised he simply wanted her.

Not bleeding - unless necessary, not seriously wounded, not dead…

Just – to steal her… _Not really on the professional level, though…_

She had definitely saved her own life at that last moment in her dad's house by caring for Jackson's, whatever her reasons had been for that. Plain humanity perhaps – or something more? It had, however, mended something that a couple of seconds earlier had appeared eternally broken. It was even possible that he had her to thank for still breathing.

And now she had fled to her hotel.

_Smart first move, Leese._

Let the game begin.

-


	2. Flowers Are For Funerals

**I'm overwhelmed, **and not so little happy, about the response to the first chapter. Thanks you all, and I hope you will enjoy the rest as well.

I feel the need to issue a little warning here: those of you that find it impossible and stupid to think that Jackson and Lisa would ever fall for each other - you can stop read now. ;)

The rest of you, have fun. I know I am.

/Nic.

**-**

**Chapter 2 Flowers Are For Funerals**

-

Lisa woke with a heavy headache and a dry mouth, confused; at first she didn't recognize her surroundings. Then it all came back to her: the call – _THE CALLS_ - Jackson's escape and her own rushed flight to the Lux.

And here she was.

Lisa called the reception, and Cynthia answered.

"Lux Atlantic, this is Cynthia speaking."

"Cynthia. It's Lisa."

"Hi, Leese! Where are you? I heard something about you sleeping here. Are you in your office?"

Lisa nodded to herself. Cynthia was good. "I need a favour."

Fifteen minutes later, Cynthia came by with a tray with Lisa's preferred breakfast and a bag with soap, shampoo, deodorant and lotion – and some pain killers.

_Cynthia, I love you!_

Worry was etched all over Cynthia's lovable face. "Lisa, are you OK?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm OK."

"Are you sure?"

Lisa sighed. Nothing slipped past Cynthia these days. She had let her too close. "Cynthia, don't tell people just yet - but it's Jackson Rippner… He's escaped…"

"Oh my God! Lisa! What are you gonna do?"

"Right now, I wanna take a long, hot shower, and then I'm gonna get some work done." Lisa smiled at the look on the other woman's face. "C, I'll think of something."

When Lisa got out to the reception an hour later, she felt fresh and actually not as tired as usual. The pounding in her head had subsided and she was fairly ready to meet the day.

She was met by a beaming Cynthia.

"Leese, I think I got something to cheer you up!" She waved her closer to the reception desk and pointed at a huge bouquet of red roses. A dozen of them, to be precise.

Lisa approached slowly; a vague feeling of uneasiness stirred her stomach. "Who sent them?"

"I don't know. They came with a flower guy. He was really cute by the way. Come on, open the letter!" Cynthia almost jumped with impatience and Lisa had to smile at her.

Smelling the beautiful flowers, she fumbled a little as she opened the small envelope that said 'Ms Reisert' on the outside. Inside was a white piece of paper with one carefully written word on it.

**_Because_**.

Lisa's hands began to tremble as she quickly put the paper back. She knew exactly what it meant – the answer to her question to him as he lay shot on the floor in her dad's hallway.

_Jackson! _

"Is it that police? He's so clearly in love with you."

Lisa sent Cynthia a warning glare. They were good friends since that horrible day, but sometimes she took liberties. "It doesn't say… Ma – Maybe it is. Put them in some water for me, OK!" Containing her worry carefully, Lisa turned on her heels and went back to the office. All the time she felt a prickle in her neck, as if she was being observed.

_Are you watching me now? Do you want to see me suffer? _

_I'm not gonna let you!_

Once behind closed doors, Lisa sank down on the nearest chair and sobbed. She jerked as the sharp sound of the phone cut through the quiet room.

"Yeah." She managed in a faint voice.

"Leese," a slightly raspy, likeable voice at the other end greeted.

Lisa began shaking with fear. He was here! He was close!

Slamming the phone back without answering, she rushed out of her room and looked around the foyer area. There were quite a crowd there already; guests checking out from their rooms early.

No Jackson, though.

The rest of the morning went by without incidents. Slowly, Lisa began to relax again. Her mind was constantly working with what she should do. She could either run or stay. In both cases, she would probably need police protection to keep Jackson off her. What bugged her was that if she hid, either by running, or by having a shield of policemen, bodyguards, then he'd already won.

_I don't want that! _

-

-

Lisa and Cynthia had lunch at a small Taiwanese restaurant a couple of blocks from the hotel. When they were nearly finished, the waiter came with a tray with two drinks on it, one Cosmopolitan, and one Sea Breeze. Lisa turned significantly paler, but Cynthia didn't notice.

"Ah… I'm sorry, we didn't -" Cynthia began.

"Compliments from the gentleman by the bar," the waiter said. Lisa's head snapped in the direction pointed out, but no one was there.

"Hm, that's odd." The waiter shrugged and gave them their drinks. "Oh, and the check has been taken care of."

_No!_

Cynthia giggled. "Lisa, I believe you have an admirer. Roses and now a paid lu-" Her mouth snapped shut as Lisa gripped her arm and leaned closer.

"It's HIM," she hissed. "Rippner."

Cynthia's mouth formed an O. "Ehm… sorry, Leese." She hesitated. "He doesn't seem to want to kill you, though. Look at it from the bright side." Cynthia smiled faintly, which looked more like a grimace.

"No, maybe he doesn't…" Lisa frowned. "And that scares me even more, Cynthia."

_There IS no bright side._

Feeling a wave of nausea, she left a gaping Cynthia and rushed to the restroom.

Throwing up in the toilet, the Taiwanese food left the same way it had entered. It didn't look all that appetizing any more.

"Ahh…" Lisa leaned back against the wall, spent, breathing heavily. Then she nodded to herself, making a decision. He was clearly too close, and definitely back for her, for one reason or another. She'd have to leave town for a while and let the police handle it; let them find him before she could come back. She didn't want him to interfere with her life, but it was too late, he already was.

She'd call Turner as soon as she got back to work.

Lisa leaved the booth and washed her hands. Splashing some water in her face, she tried to get herself back in order before she returned to Cynthia. Looking back up again, she jerked and yelped – she wasn't alone. _Oh God! Oh NO!_ Jackson was standing behind her, the mirror reflecting them both.

"Hi, Leese," he said calmly. His handsome face was serious, just like during the trial; there was nothing in it to reveal whether he came to kill her, or if he had any other reason for showing up like this.

Lisa inhaled sharply and her eyes darted to the door, then back at him in the mirror. Then she bolted. She didn't get far. Quick as lightning, Jackson had slammed a hand against the wall next to her head. She unintentionally gave out a little whimper of fear, looking longingly at the door once more. Her heart was beating abnormally fast and her mouth had turned dry. _Oh my God, he's gonna kill me!_

His eyes followed her gaze, while his head remained motionless. "Don't bother with that, I'm all healed up and a lot quicker than you." He let his arm back down and smirked, cocking his head in his characteristic way.

His voice was back to its normal smooth likeable quality, as if the stab wound had never happened.

Lisa twisted around and turned towards him; he was standing a mere foot away. Her eyes fell on the circular, slightly irregular scar on the lower part of his throat, just above the lining of his shirt. Jackson looked down at her and lifted a hand, stroking the scar.

"Proud of yourself?" he asked.

Her eyes lingered at the scar as the memories of how it got there flooded her mind. When he lowered his hand, her eyes darted back up to his glacial blue.

"What do you want?" she whispered, finally finding her voice again.

"Told you we'd talk again," he answered lightly. "You know, it isn't very nice to hang up once you know who's calling. That's rather picky, isn't it? I'd have thought better of you." He smirked as he looked down at her.

"I – I got busy."

"Don't lie to me, Leese," he snickered. "It doesn't suit you. Did you like the flowers?"

"Thought you'd send lilies," she muttered. _For my funeral…_

Jackson's beautiful features were lightened by a delighted smile, seemingly appreciating the dark humour.

Pressing her lips tightly shut, she tried to remain calm, she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing the real fear inside of her. _What's he up to? _

Lisa's face was pale and still wet. Jackson reached past her with one arm, she flinched and thought for a moment that he was going to hit her, but he grabbed a paper towel and handed it to her. She regarded him for a moment. _Is it a trick?_ Then she snatched the paper from his hand and carefully wiped her face with trembling hands, her eyes never leaving his.

Jackson followed her movements and smirked when she was done. "Enjoy the drink?"

"No, I threw it out," she sneered. Jackson's eyes darkened slightly, but Lisa didn't see that. "I don't drink Sea Breeze any more. Haven't you caught up? Besides, who knows what you put in it?"

Lisa crossed her arms over her chest and tried to look at ease. It was just Jackson Rippner standing in front of her again. _It's just the professional manager of assassins who swore to finish the job last time we met. _

_To finish me._

Jackson closed in on her and had a wicked look in his eyes. Lisa couldn't help herself, but shrank back a little, her hands now supporting her against the basin behind her.

"What do you want?" she asked again.

"Oh… I've wanted to do SO many things to you, Leese."

He took a step closer and lifted his hand. Lisa gasped and twitched with fear. She dodged to get away, but Jackson quickly stretched out a leg and obstructed her escape route. He grinned and took a strand of her hair in his hand.

"I wanted to hurt you - badly." He raised one eyebrow and pinned her with the intensity in his blue eyes.

"Jacks -" she croaked and shrank away visibly. Her eyes were wide with dread, but she was still unable to actually break free, his leg as well as his intimidating presence interfered efficiently.

"I wanted to kill you." His eyes narrowed and he twisted the strand of hair between his fingers. Lisa pushed at his chest and tried to pull her head away, but found herself caught in his grip. It hurt, but it was more because she had tried to yank her head free and not because he had tugged at her hair.

"I even thought of raping you," he whispered with eyes that suddenly went colder, moving even closer so that she was now placed between his legs. Her lower back was pressed against the basin and she had to struggle to keep her balance. The position would've been compromising even if he hadn't been saying those exact words.

Lisa's eyes filled with tears and she shook her head repeatedly. Her legs were trembling and she tried to lean further away from him which made her lose her balance. Before she fell, Jackson caught her by her upper arms and held her tight. His hands felt warm through the thin fabric of her shirt and her heart pounded harder as her body remembered the last time they'd been this close.

"P- please," she rasped, her voice thick with emotion. "I - I had to defend myself." He was still holding her, and they were way too close. She knew he could kill her any second and walk away before anyone would notice. _Or do - other things…_

He still hadn't actually DONE anything… _If he tries, whatever, then I'm gonna… I'm gonna…_ Here eyes darted around the room and found nothing she could use against him.

He smiled.

"Yeah... That's what I thought too. But not until much later…"

He rubbed his thumbs absently against her arms where he held them. "I DID have a lot of time to think." He looked down at her face, and the situation reminded her so much of the moment at the top of the stairs one month earlier.

She wondered briefly if he was going to kiss her again. That was something she certainly didn't want. Absolutely not. The feeling of his warm strong hands gripping her upper arms made her skin tingle in remembrance.

Biting his lower lip, he let his gaze wander to the place at her chest where the scar was hidden under her shirt, then he suddenly let her go and took a step back.

Lisa exhaled audibly and moved a step closer to the door. She flinched when he spoke again.

"I did what I had to do, my job - to put it simple, and you simply defended yourself. We were both just victims of the circumstances, there's no need to read more into it."

He shrugged and smiled and his bright blue eyes lightened. "I'd say we're even." Shifting his stance, he continued, "Gotta go. I have the cops on my tail and that's just a little too uncomfortable at the moment." He smiled briefly and half whispered as if in confidence. "They get so cranky sometimes."

Jackson leaned forward, making Lisa shrink back. He let his lips brush over her cheek in a very brief kiss.

"You're a good fighter, Lisa. Keep it up." His mouth angled into a twisted smile. "I just wanted to say goodbye." Then he looked her over once more before he turned on his heels, pulled the door open and left a stunned Lisa behind.

The door slammed shut and Lisa fell to her knees on the not-to-clean floor, her legs unable to support her any more.

_Oh my God!_

Her worst fears had come true and it had been nothing like she had imagined. Jackson had been more like back at the airport and less like the furious murderer in her father's house.

_And I behaved like a little baby! Could hardly talk and even less fight!_

Not that she had even needed. She'd have thought everything – but this.

All the things he said he had thought of… THAT'S what she'd have imagined. And now he'd left her, like a weeping heap, but totally unharmed. He'd even seemed friendly… and now he was gone. He'd said goodbye. Lisa's hand found its own way up to the burning spot on her cheek where Jackson's lips had touched it.

_It's over! _

Then why did the hurt linger?_ There were so many things…_

…_I wanted to say…_

-

-

_Goodbye for now, that is…_

Jackson was satisfied with the outcome so far. He hadn't lied, not at all actually. He did intend to leave – just not today… What was more important was that Lisa should be able to feel safe now. And still she would be affected from their meeting. Scared, insecure…

He grinned, with a feeling of being a master puppeteer.

_Oh, I affect you, Lisa. I know I do. And it's not only that you're afraid of what I might do to you. You're afraid of what YOU might do to ME! _

_And that you would like it._

It was important that Lisa felt secure enough to stay in town, without the cops watching her. And he knew she believed him, that he wouldn't come after her. The thing was; he hadn't said that. But he knew she had heard that.

Jackson smirked as he drove off.

_Round two was mine._

He drove along the ocean, passing her secluded house; street on one side, few neighbours, trees on two other sides and the ocean on the fourth. It was perfect; he already knew the place by heart from his eight weeks of surveillance. The mild warm breeze ruffled his thick hair through the open window. Jackson closed his eyes for a second and revelled in the sensation, allowing it to soothe his tumultuous soul.

_Oh, Leese, the things I'm gonna do to you!_

-


	3. Into The Void

Thanks for all the awesome feedback! It makes my head swell:) But it's really, truly encouraging. I'm writing every day, and I have Jackson and Lisa in my mind all the time, working out where to go next. Gotta love them!

_Thank you, First Noelle for your input._

Have a good read, all of you!

/Nic.

**-**

**Chapter 3 Into The Void**

"Hah, but do you really think I can hide if I have a professional assassin after me – set on killing me? Honestly?"

Dean sighed; she could almost hear him squirm at the other end of the line. "That is our job, Miss Reisert. We can protect you."

"Yeah, but for how long? I don't want to go into some protection program. It would destroy my life."

"Isn't he already? Destroying your life?"

_I'm not so sure… Yes, he is - but not how you think._

"Officer Turner, Dean, like I said; I don't think he's coming for me anymore. He told me he -"

"And you believe him?" The man at the other end sounded incredulous.

"He never lies," she stated firmly.

Dean Turner sighed again. "We can't force protection on someone who doesn't want it – but please, please agree to have a patrol officer come by frequently at night, just to check your surroundings, windows, and such."

Lisa hesitated. She was still shaken from the meeting earlier that day, but at the same time she fully believed that Jackson wasn't going to come after her. And in the midst of the relief she felt an ache – a loss. That had been the only thing she'd known for a month now – that he was going to try to get to her to extract revenge. She had feared that she would have to live for years in fright – and now, suddenly, it was resolved.

_His blue eyes lingered upon her; they seemed to trace every line in her face, to study her like she was some precious art work. _

Flinching, realizing she'd drifted, she listened to the concerned man at the other end of the line. "You wouldn't be bothered by it if that's what's bugging you."

"OK," she found herself saying, more to get rid of him than because she actually felt the need. She suspected that Turner would have wanted to set up a full camp inside her home, complete with tanks and armour breaking missiles in order to protect her if she'd allowed it.

Lisa sat back in the chair in her office. Through her window you could see the back of another of the hotel's buildings, not the most beautiful sight – but those were reserved for the guests. Her office was bright, though, with white walls and light furniture. Fresh flowers stood in a vase at her desk. The bouquet of blood red roses she had received earlier was out in the staff's coffee room.

'_Because' _

_Because what, Jackson? What did you mean by that? _

'_I just wanted to say good bye.'_

Her heart began pounding harder. It wasn't entirely true that he never lied…

'_So, is this personal now?', 'Just finishing the job.'_

She remembered vividly the anger that had flared in his frightening eyes at that moment. She had hurt him, and he was going to make her pay.

_But it's over now. _

_It's over._

So why didn't she feel relieved?

During the afternoon Lisa had too much on her mind to have time to think of Jackson. One of the portieres had called in sick and she had to work in the reception, checking in and out customers; finding bookings that didn't exist; directing calls for room service; explaining why they couldn't provide escort service; fixing a plumber for the leaking toilet in 5325 – and so on…

People generally went mad when they were on vacation. _'They just have special needs.'_ The mantra from her predecessor went through her mind as she was forced to meet with some of the more obvious disadvantages with working up front.

Much later than healthy, Lisa finally headed home. Her head felt empty as she drove along the coast line looking at the beautiful sight of the last rays of sunshine that grazed the ocean. It was a vision she never grew tired of watching. Tonight, though, she barely noticed it. Some part of her brain registered, but her mind, her conscious mind wasn't really there.

Her heart beat slow and heavy in her chest, and for the first time in years, she felt alone.

Very much alone.

Refusing to carry the thought to its end, she parked the car and took the five steps up to her front door with tired feet.

_No dancing tonight._

Lisa didn't turn on the lights. She'd never been afraid of the dark, or of being alone. She never used to be much afraid of anything – up until two years ago – and a parking lot – _a knife to my throat_ – sounds of children, cars and trolleys. A silent threat - the knife. The assailant's low groans as he ripped off her panties and buried himself in her tender flesh. Pounding. _The knife cut into me when he came. Thank god it had slipped lower while he – he…, I screamed, I remember the taste of his filthy hand over my mouth, smell of sweat. Then I was cold, alone…_

_Eyes closed. Hurt. Not moving. Pain. A woman's voice. Police. Ambulance. Disgrace. Gynaecologist. Shame. Blood samples. Abortion pill. Shame. Victim. Victim. Victim. _

'_It's never gonna happen again!' _

_Self defence classes. Pain. Work. Work. Work. Pain. _

Lisa was crying freely and didn't even know it. She sank to the floor just inside her front door. The pain shot through her heart like a spear. She didn't know why she hurt. Images of Jackson flashed through her mind and she shook her head, confused.

_But he wasn't there!_

Why did she think of the rape NOW? She'd been there, done that. Worked through it.

It was like all sadness inside her had gathered and erupted into one massive killing blow.

Dizzily, she rose and threw her bag in a corner of the hallway. Kicking off her shoes as she went, she walked straight to the little bar in the living room and poured a big scotch for herself. Hitting the on-button of the stereo as she passed it, a soft jazz tune with Miles Davis filled the room on a low volume.

Lisa sank down onto her couch - her big red couch that served as a viewing point for watching the ocean. It was almost black outside now and Lisa slowly relaxed. The whiskey, and the soothing sounds from the ocean and the jazz, helped bring out the grief. Once in a while a louder sob was heard, but mostly Lisa cried silently as she mourned the losses of her life.

_The woman I once was. The one man I found that… I could like - and that never existed. _

When she heard the soft voice behind her, she jerked and almost poured the amber liquid all over her skirt.

"Crying alone in the dark, Leese? Now what's wrong with this picture?"

-

-

Jackson had been watching Lisa since she left the hotel. He'd followed her from a safe distance until she reached the smaller road leading up to her house. That's where he took another route, parked the car behind some trees further down the street and opened a prepared window to gain entrance to her home.

The fact that she didn't turn on the lights was an unexpected bonus, and he had fun thinking of how he would shock her with his presence. He didn't find it as fun anymore when he watched her crying, slumped in a broken heap on the floor.

_Is she crying because she met me today? Is she sick? What's wrong? _

His blue eyes narrowed in the dark as he tried to figure out her state of mind. He retreated deeper into the shadows as she moved. When he heard the unmistakable sounds of liquid being poured into a glass and the soft music that filled the room, a small smile grazed his lips.

_Good taste, Leese. But I knew that._

Jackson was tempted to leave again, to postpone this night. She seemed ripped to pieces and it might actually work against him. But no. HE was ready; she'd have to play along. _…and maybe she needs the distraction…_As the occasional sobs wrecked her body, Jackson quietly strode closer behind her back.

_This is our point of no return, Lisa._

-

-

Lisa jumped off of her couch and away from him. _He's HERE, he's here. Ohmygod_. The glass slid out of her hand and shattered against the floor, and as she staggered backwards to get away from Jackson some of the shards pierced the skin under her feet. Limping further back until she hit the wall behind her, she didn't see where she stepped and walked into more glass.

A look of surprise flew across her face before it twisted in pain as the carpet was stained red. _Ahwoah! IT HURTS!_ She tried to support herself against the wall and not to stand on either of her feet.

Impossible of course.

Jackson came closer, hesitantly, and Lisa held out a hand to try to defend herself. At the same time she felt dizzy from the sharp stings from her feet. She really needed to sit down and her head spun as she tried to assess her chances.

Unless she could crawl away from him successfully, she found them to be none.

Zero.

Her lips felt numb with fear as she spoke. "Have you come to finish the job, Jackson?" She used the name he preferred instead of trying to mock him, afraid that it would be too painful to use the shorter, hated 'Jack'.

"Lisa -… you need to sit down." He hesitated, then he made up his mind. "Come here."

"No, don't touch me!" She tried to take a step away from him on her wounded feet, and winced with pain as she did. The glass on the floor crunched under Jackson's shoes as he approached her. Lisa was helpless when he scooped her up in his arms and carried her the few steps back to the couch where he sat her down carefully.

Lisa grimaced and stared warily at Jackson as he sat down next to her.

"Let me look at those feet, Leese."

"No. Don't you dare touch me!" she snarled. "I thought you'd said your goodbyes. You're such a liar, aren't you?"

-

-

The venom in her voice was unmistakable, and underneath the angry heat was a hint of hurt that didn't pass Jackson unnoticed. _Gotcha!_

"Why? Did you miss me already?"

He smirked as she hissed at him. "Of course I didn't! Leave! That'd make me happy."

The smile on his lips lingered before it slowly faded and he turned serious. "You didn't seem all that happy a few minutes ago."

Lisa's face dropped and she looked away.

He put a finger under her chin and turned her face back towards his. He could feel her flinch at his touch. _Don't be so afraid, Leese._ She yanked her head away, but kept her gaze locked with his for a moment. Her eyes were impossibly dark in the dusky room. Then she looked down. "I was thinking – of stuff…"

A single sad tear made its way slowly down her cheek.

His heart ached for her. He knew exactly what she implied. _Some stuff!_

Lisa moved uncomfortably next to him and his gaze diverted to her feet. "Leese. Feet. Come here." She flinched, but not as much as before, when he gently gripped one leg and brought a foot up for inspection.

"Shit," he muttered to himself. _It's a mess. Gotta have some light. _He took a quick glance at the other foot as well. It wasn't as bad as the first, but still a couple of shards sat embedded in her flesh.

He looked up. Lisa was pale and underwent his inspection in silence.

"I'm gonna have to move you to the kitchen for better light. OK?"

He felt a flicker of satisfaction as he took her in his arms again. This was perhaps a better turn of events than what he'd had in mind. Like this she was disabled and at his mercy.

_For better or worse…_

-

-

Lisa felt extremely uneasy as he touched her legs and inspected her wounded feet with professional interest. She shuddered; she really didn't want to know why he seemed to have medical knowledge. _He needs it for his job. _

It was only self preservation that stopped her from trying to kick him in the face. She had a perfect opportunity, but she had a severe pain in both feet and she knew that both the impact itself would hurt tremendously and then she would be unable to run anyway.

An odd thought struck her as she let herself be carried to the kitchen. She couldn't really recall the intense sadness she'd dwelled in only a few moments ago. Inhaling his scent sent shockwaves of memories through the cells of her body. They remembered him. They stretched out for his touch. Lisa's mind reeled. _No! Forbidden thoughts. Don't forget who he is. WHAT he is._

She held her head away from his chest, but all the time it kept wanting to seek comfort in his warmth.

He sat her down on the kitchen counter and turned on the lights. Lisa's heart jumped as he again lifted her legs to look at her feet. She could see some blood on the sides of her feet, some fresh and glistening and some that was beginning to dry.

"Are you going to hurt me?" she asked.

He coughed. "You're doing such a great job at that yourself," he answered as he extracted a couple of larger shards from the sole of her right foot, entirely focused on his task.

She winced and bit her lower lip as she regarded him. "Why are you doing this?"

He looked up. "Doing what?"

"Well… you know. Showing up here… taking care of my feet… not killing me… things like that." She wanted to be brave, she tried so hard to bring back the Furious Lisa she had been back at her father's house one month ago, but all that came out of her damn mouth was that soft question.

The last weeks had been hell. And it wasn't only because of Jackson and the flight and the threats. It was because his appearance in her life had brought so much else to the surface. Things she had buried deep inside and almost stopped thinking about. The man she had met at the airport had brought a promise. A promise of another life. Of companionship. Of not having to spend her time on earth alone.

And then it all fell to pieces when it turned out HE didn't exist. Those shards had hurt more than the glass now hurt her feet.

Still hurt.

"Ahm, well, this didn't exactly turn out the way I had planned." He laughed a little and shook his head and went back to carefully removing one shard after another with a little tool he had produced out of his pocket.

"And how had you planned it?" Her imagination could immediately come up with a hundred potential ways for him to fulfil his earlier threats.

There was almost something everyday-like about their conversation. Like back in the beginning of the flight - when they were still friendly with each other.

Jackson stopped for a moment and looked up at her. His blue eyes glittered with mirth and his hand was warm against her skin, his fingers wrapped securely around her leg. "You were supposed to get scared and fight back. And I was probably going to have to tie you up to keep you where I wanted you."

"I would have fought back."

"I know."

"I can crawl."

"Guess I'll have to tie you up then."

Lisa held back yet another cocky retort. Her breath had caught in her throat. They were almost flirting. She swallowed nervously.

Jackson smirked.

"Are you gonna be still at least for now so I can finish this?"

Lisa looked down, flustered. "Yeah."

"Peachy."

-


	4. Take No Hostage

**Thank you all for the lovely reviews! **You sure know how to encourage me. :D

Just on a note: OH, come ON! That last chapter wasn't much of a cliffhanger. Then you haven't seen my cliffies... :) I had to re-read it several time just because of that, but I keep thinking it's a damn good chapter ending. And nice to my readers… But yeah, other than that, cliffies are really fun - if you're the author. And don't worry. You WILL have a completed story. I put pride in completing, and also I write a lot and tend to focus at one story at a time, which means you won't have to wait months for updates…

Good, ain't it:D /Nic.

**-**

**Chapter 4 Take No Hostage**

Jackson had extracted the last of the shards he could locate, tested each toe methodically to see if any of the tendons had been damaged, and was now wrapping her feet up with some gauze he'd found in the bathroom.

Lisa was silently studying him, realizing she didn't know anything about this Jackson. He wasn't the charming easy-going man at the airport, and he wasn't the cruel assassin's manager at the flight, and he certainly didn't seem to be the furious murderer at her father's house.

"Who are you?" The question slipped out before she even considered asking it. She wasn't sure what she wanted to hear, and if she was ready to hear any answer at all.

Jackson flinched, barely visible, as he secured the last piece of the bandage.

He gave her leg a light pat. "There you go, as good as new. Ahm - wanna have some tea, or something stronger?"

Obviously he was going to ignore that question. That was just as fine. _Better to never know._

"No. I- I want you to leave."

He raised one eyebrow. "Really?"

She stared back at him, meeting his piercing eyes. "Yes. Really."

Jackson cocked his head. "Funny, 'cause I've been getting different signals."

"Like what?"

"Like you've missed me."

Lisa snorted and raised her eyebrows meaningfully. "Why would I miss you, Jackson? Let me see; you take me hostage, threaten to kill my dad, force me to take part in the attempted murder of a man I admire, hunt me to my dad's house where you nearly kill me with a huge knife. What's there to miss?"

Jackson smirked, completely unmoved by her outbreak. "You kissed me."

"NO! No, no, no, JACK. YOU kissed ME!"

His smirk widened into something warmer, in spite of the use of the nick name. "Yes, I did." Then he leaned closer. "And you kissed back."

Lisa licked her lip nervously. She didn't like the turn of the conversation. "You said you'd leave. I thought you never lied." She stared challengingly at him, desperate to change the topic.

"I don't. I'll leave – just not tonight." He looked disgustingly satisfied with himself.

_Bastard._

"OK. Then I'll leave!" Lisa lifted herself carefully off the kitchen bench and sat her feet cautiously on the floor. Searing pain shot through her and she kneeled to the floor, unable to support herself.

Jackson snickered and grabbed her arm, crouching next to her.

"You may want to leave – or not. But know what, Leese? Seems like you can't. Tough luck."

Feeling lightheaded with pain, she heaved herself up on a chair. "Why are you here?" she whispered.

Standing in front of her, he lifted her chin with a gentle hand and almost hypnotized her with his incredible eyes. "I'm here to extract my revenge, Lisa."

She flinched and twisted her head away. While her pulse began to pick up, she regarded him.

"How?" Her voice was so annoyingly small! She hated that. Hated what he did to her, and how he affected her with his mere presence.

Jackson looked down on her, the smile had vanished. "That is for you to find out. Isn't it?"

Lisa swallowed hard. Her head spun. "Are you gonna kill me?" she finally managed.

He sucked on his lower lip before answering. "Nope."

"What then!" she yelled.

"Don't get all worked up, it's not gonna do you any good," he said coldly. "Patience, Leese. I'm sure you've learned something similar during all those management classes."

Lisa winced; he was mocking her again. She clenched her hands into tight fists and punched him with all the strength she could muster in the groin. Jackson was completely taken by surprise and doubled over in pain.

"Go to hell," she sneered before she got up and began limping across the kitchen floor, this time better prepared for the pain. She was not quick enough, though. A hand snuck out and grabbed her leg. In spite of her soreness, she kicked at his arm with her other foot, but he evaded her easily and grabbed around the bandage, squeezing it as he yanked. Lisa screamed and fell to the floor and in the next minute an enraged Jackson was on top of her, pressing her body to the floor with the weight of his own. He was panting hard and she could feel every breath he took.

"That-" he snarled. "-was not very clever of you." He looked like he would kill her any second, his blue eyes flashed dangerously.

"Get off me! Get OFF me!" she screamed, terrified. Lisa almost panicked, feeling him on top of her. The ugly memories from the rape that had re-surfaced only tonight made the feeling of his weight on her unbearable.

Jackson sat back up. His lips were tightly pressed together in anger as he looked intently at her. "OK, here's what we're going to do. You are going to refrain from trying to escape. I am not going to keep you tied up and I'm not going to hurt you." He looked at her and frowned. "Do you hear me, Leese?"

She nodded; tears glittered in the corners of her eyes.

"If you do leave tonight, however, you'll never see me again. Ever." Jackson stood and gave her one more look before he turned away and left the kitchen.

Lisa lay still on the floor. Confused.

_I can't leave – but I can? He'd let me? _An unexpected flicker of hurt shot through her chest. _I'd never see him again? _That prospect shouldn't sound that bad.

So why did it?

Lisa cursed silently as she tried to stand up. He knees bucked as she put a foot down. Sitting back down on the floor again, she realized she'd need help. _From him. _Asking Jackson to give her a hand would still be less humiliating than to come out of the kitchen crawling on her hands and knees.

"Ja -" Her voice was too hoarse after the screaming and she had to start over. "Jackson."

A moment later he was standing in her doorway, leaning against it and looking down at her with a slightly amused expression on his face. _Ahhh!_ She wanted to punch him again. He held a broom and a small bucket. _He's cleaning? The glass? And how did he find my broom?_

"Yeah? You called."

"I could use some help here," she said through clenched teeth.

Jackson could barely hide his grin. "I thought you didn't want me to touch you."

"Well, I -" she stuttered. "Ahhh, you're just mocking me!"

"DO you want me to touch you?"

Lisa's cheeks had begun to blush with embarrassment and she remembered vividly at that moment how he had touched her and kissed her.

Before.

An eternity ago.

Just recently.

"Go to hell!"

"OK." And by that he disappeared again.

Lisa sank down with her back against the wall. _What does he want? What is this revenge he says he wants? What's the friendly act about? Is he going to leave me here?_

"Eh… Jackson," she called, not too loud, as if hoping that he by chance wouldn't hear. If he didn't, she would have to find another way.

"Lisa." She heard her name from the other room, but he didn't show up. _He's gonna make me beg!_

"Are you going to leave me here? That the revenge?"

"Yup. Unless you ask nicely." _Bastard!_

"Ah, come on. I wouldn't be sitting here if it weren't for you."

"I didn't ask you to walk on glass."

Lisa sighed. He wasn't making this easy for her. "Please."

Next moment he stood in the doorway again, smiling, his blue eyes beaming. "Why didn't you say so?"

Lisa clenched her teeth and refused to answer in case something venomous would pop out. It wouldn't do her any good. Like it or not, _NOT, _but she was depending on him at this moment and realized she needed his good grace.

"Can you help me get back to the couch? Please? Jackson."

"There's no need to overdo it, Lisa. You had me at the first please." He walked up to her. "You want me to carry you?"

"No!" she replied a little too quickly.

Jackson had a smug look on his face as he stretched out his arm and helped her up. Every step she took burned like hell and slowly she staggered back out to the living room, supporting some of her weight on his arm. It seemed to take forever and Lisa was painfully aware of Jackson's closeness.

With a sigh of relief she sank down onto the couch.

Jackson regarded her for a moment and then he went back out to the kitchen. She could hear the sound of water flowing and a kettle put on the stove. He didn't seem to be in a hurry to get back out to her.

_This is your chance! Get to the door. Get the keys to the car and get out while you can!_

Had he been honest when he said he wasn't going to kill her? Was he going to hurt her? It didn't seem like it. She'd done a better job at that herself this evening.

_Is he going to bore me to death!_

Lisa shook her head and jerked with surprise when he suddenly showed up again, carrying a tray with two cups on it. He sat it down carefully on the small table next to the couch, before settling himself next to her. Pulling up his legs underneath him, he made himself comfortable.

"You're still here I see." One corner of his mouth quirked into a teasing smile, and there was a hint of mock in his voice. "You didn't take the chance to get away? Is it that an effective threat to say you'll never see me again?"

"In case you haven't noticed my feet hurt!" Lisa sneered.

"That wouldn't have stopped you a month ago."

"Maybe I'm just too curious to see what you can possibly want with me if you're not here to hurt me."

"Did I say that?"

"YES you did!"

"Define hurt," he demanded.

"What?"

"Have I hurt you?" His eyes narrowed slightly as he regarded her.

"Now?"

"Ever."

Lisa opened her mouth to answer that of course he had. Then she snapped it shut again. Had he? She actually had to think. Her memory seemed awkwardly selective when it came to the events during and after the red eye flight. Then her hand flew up to her throat. The pale yellow shade had finally faded about a week ago, but before that she'd had a dark black and blue bruise over her throat.

Jackson saw her hand and where it went. He stretched out his arm and closed his hand around hers, bringing it up to his own throat. Lisa trembled in his grip, but she knew what he was aiming at and let the tips of her fingers slowly push his shirt away to reveal the angry red, slightly irregular round scar an inch below his Adam's apple. Her heart rate picked up as she touched his skin and felt the callous tissue under her fingers. Like she had burnt herself, she quickly pulled out of his grip.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked again.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Did you hurt me?"

Lisa nodded, but was unable to form words. He frightened her. What did her want? An eye for an eye? They'd be awfully bruised before this was over if that was the case…

"Answer me. Did you hurt me?"

"Yes." She bent her head down in defeat.

"Did I deserve it?"

She quickly looked up again. "Yeah. Yeah, you did."

"Did you deserve it?"

"NO!" she burst out. "That was self defense." Lisa's mind tilted and she looked down at her hands. _He was sitting quietly next to her, listening to the story of the rape at the parking lot, he wasn't violent, and then she suddenly stabbed him._ Would it hold up in court? As the memory re-played in her mind, she suddenly knew he had been holding back during the trial. He and his lawyer could probably have turned the tables completely on her by blaming her for exaggerated violence against HIM…

_I never thought of it that way before. _

_But it WAS self defense! _

_Was it, Lisa? _

_YES! I saved the Keefes that way… _

Jackson cocked his head and smiled. "What did you defend yourself against? Really." Lisa's head jerked in his direction again. She stared at his mouth as he licked his lower lip and then bit it slightly.

He HAD kissed her.

_Why?_

-


	5. A Moment In Time

**Author's note: **OK, seriously; if you loathe the idea of Jackson and Lisa together… Click the back button now. After this chapter it's too late. As always: thanks for all the lovely reviews! I'm glad that you seem to think that I keep them in-character. That is something I really work on. Then I HOPE I'm making this seem plausible… Tell me what you think.

This is a Jackson on a quest for revenge… the question is: will he have to dig two graves when he's done? Who will hurt the more?

-

**Chapter 5 A Moment In Time**

Jackson was pretty pleased with himself.

Lisa hadn't tried to escape after his threat. It had worked just like he'd thought. SHE had worked like he thought. He wasn't taken by surprise by her anymore; instead he'd been able to foresee her actions and reactions.

_Well, almost… _

A certain fist connecting with his crotch, still making it ache, hadn't been in his plans. _But she wouldn't be Lisa unless she didn't give me a hard time…_

He glanced at his watch: quarter past midnight. There was still plenty of time. He was slowly working his way past her defences, planting small seeds of doubts in her mind concerning what had happened. It wasn't all black and white as she, the victim, preferred to think of it; as all victims always wanted to see it, always needing to separate themselves from the perpetrator. There were more nuances than that; he wasn't all that bad… and maybe she wasn't all that good… But she needed to see it herself. He'd have to make her see it; it would make her more vulnerable and leave her in doubt.

Lisa's voice brought him out of his musings.

"Jackson, is this whole thing a pathetic attempt to hit on me?"

He jerked._ Shit. Pretty clear thinking, Leese… _

_But when have you not? _

'_You're pathetic.' _Her sarcastic words from back at her dad's house still haunted him. Was he? Maybe.

_But am I the only one? _

_Who's more pathetic, Lisa, the fool, or she who follows the fool? _

-

-

An impossible thought was slowly growing in her mind as she sipped at the hot strong tea. _He's here… because of ME. Not because I beat him and sent him to jail, but because he wants ME…_ That was a truly scary thought. _Does he really think we have anything in common? That he can waltz back into my life and expect me to be happy about it?_

The corners of his mouth lifted into a smirk. His eyes glittered. "Why? You'd want that?"

"NO!" she snarled. "I already told you. You're trespassing and I want you to leave." She sat her cup down on the table and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I don't think that's what you want."

"Try me!" she spat. Her heart pounded harder in her chest again as she challengingly stared back at him. _Does he really think-_

Lisa threw herself backwards as Jackson suddenly leaned forward and planted a kiss right on her lips. They lost contact immediately but the burning sensation of his full lips on hers lingered.

"What are you doing?" she gasped, flustered.

"Trying you," he laughed. "You told me to."

Lisa hated that he affected her. She felt disgusted about the fact that this man – this MURDERER – could so easily steal her heart. This was the very same man that had tried to kill the whole Keefe family, children and all, and that had almost killed both her and her father, hadn't she fought back.

She wiped her lips with the back of her hand and glared venomously at him. The need to get away from him grew inside her until it threatened to turn into a suppressed panic.

Her eyes darted to the cup and then back to him. Without thinking any further, she grabbed the cup and flung it at him. Jackson was quick and threw up an arm which protected his face from most of the scalding hot content. Some hit his face, though, some drenched his suit and the rest soaked her couch. The cup scrambled to the floor as Lisa was up on her much-too-hurting feet, taking long strides towards the front door.

She didn't get far before a furious Jackson was on her. He shoved her forcefully against the wall, pressing an arm over her throat as he hissed, "What the FUCK's the matter with you?"

They both froze as the sound of a car suddenly was heard outside. As it pulled up in front of Lisa's house, the tyres crunched on the gravel. Then it went quiet. Jackson stared hard at Lisa, then he gripped around her neck and clamped a hand against her mouth.

"Friend of yours?" he whispered tensely in her ear.

Lisa shook her head in his grip and mumbled something.

A car door slammed shut and footsteps was heard. Through the milky glass in her front door they could see the silhouette of a man and the lights from a flashlight. Lisa was stunned, and increasingly upset. _Is it a thief?_ When the lights disappeared round the corner of the house, she realized who the mysterious man must be. _It's a police! Help! I'm in here! Help me!_

Squirming in Jackson's steel grip, she assessed her possibilities to call for help. He effectively quieted her with his hand, though, pinning her to the wall until she was unable to move at all. After just a minute, the car door was opened and shut, the engine roared to life and the vehicle drove off into the distance. _Some guard! Useless!_

Jackson smirked at her as he slowly let her loose, his eyes freezing cold. "If he'd have suspected anything…"

Lisa stared at him and then lowered her gaze to the bright pink irregular mark on his left cheek where the tea had burnt him. _Get OFF me! _Pushing hard at his chest, she then shoved her knee right up his groin. Jackson doubled over and moaned. Lisa squirmed out of his grip and hastily limped towards the front door to get her car keys and get out. She felt his hand almost get her skirt but yanked it loose. _Bag. Bag. Where's the bag?_ She searched the dark hallway frantically before she found it in the corner where she'd thrown it.

"Aaaahhhh!" Lisa screamed as Jackson suddenly gripped her by the hair and held it tight. She clutched for his hands and tried to hit at his head and face behind her back.

"Leese," he snarled. "I admire your fighting spirit, but we're not getting anywhere like this."

"Let me GO," she howled.

"Oh, I don't think so. I always tend to hurt so much when you're loose."

"Then don't come to my house! Leave, JACK!"

"Lisa," he hissed. "You're playing with fire."

"So are you," she muttered through clenched teeth.

He surprised her by laughing. "Tell me about it."

Lisa sighed with relief as he let her loose. Warily, she turned around and eyed him cautiously. She eased herself out of his grip entirely and then she slapped him hard across the face.

A startled Jackson gripped her wrist and roared at her. "Do I have to tie you up, Lisa? Is that it? That what you want? Maybe that's what make you tick, huh?" He took a hold of the collar of her blouse and shoved her back against the wall again. "You want me to be rough with you!" Twisting her wrist downwards in an impossible angle, he forced her to bend forward in pain. The he abruptly let her arm go.

Lisa glared at him while she massaged her wrist. "Tell me why you're here instead or I'll never stop fighting you!" She yanked her shirt out of his grip- "And no, it doesn't make me tick," she sneered. "You should know better."

-

-

He felt ashamed.

_Yes, I know better._ It wasn't very likely that Lisa would find it a turn-on if someone was rough with her and tied her up. The rape fantasies many women indulged in had already become all too real to Lisa.

She flinched before him when he lifted a hand to pull some strands of hair out of her face. He could tell from the disbelief in her face that she found him hard to understand.

_That's understandable. I don't know myself either. Makes us two…_

"I'm sorry," he surprised himself by saying.

Lisa seemed equally surprised. "What?"

"You heard me, don't push it," he said, but there was no malice in his voice anymore.

She relaxed slightly and he sensed the change. He looked at her as she blew a stray hair away from her face and then smiled briefly at him, shifting her stance. And he just couldn't hold back any longer.

"I want to touch you."

"What?"

He smiled and his eyes glittered. "You're repeating yourself."

"Well, YOU are behaving funny."

"I am?" He knew he was, but he wanted to see how she reacted to him.

"Uh-huh." She regarded him with curiosity and confusion written all over her face. "And you're touching me all the time, already."

"I want your permission."

_You want my perm-?_ "Why?" She slowly shook her head and stared at him with her dark green eyes with a shade like a deep forest after rain. Her gaze made something stir in his stomach.

_Because I want you. Because you thrill me and I want to feel you. Close. _

"I need it."

She gaped. "Wait a minute, Jackson. What about what I need, then!"

"What DO you need?"

-

-

He was pushing her. Far past her limits. This couldn't be happening. HE was here – in HER house. Asking her permission… to touch her… Lisa swallowed hard and her heart pounded. Her whole body ached for his touch, but she refused to acknowledge it. That brief contact when he had pushed the hair out of her face still burnt on her skin and she had to keep her hand clutched to the side not to touch her own cheek.

'_What do you need?' Oh God._

"Jackson," she said weakly. "Ehm – my feet…"

His face cracked into a laugh. "You really have a gift for getting away."

She blushed profusely. "N – no, I mean, they hurt."

"Sure." Lisa yelped when Jackson without warning scooped her up and carried her back into the living room. Except, he didn't stop there, but continued into her bedroom. Her heart rate picked up. "Ahm… Now you're scaring me."

He sat her down on the bed and settled next to her. "Lisa, if there's anything you'll never have to worry about..." Jackson shook his head and looked serious and she knew the end of that sentence. No, he would never force himself on her. Somehow she knew that.

_But he wants… to touch… With my permission. _Her heart pounded wildly in her chest_. He's not getting it! I can't… _She tried to maintain the image of the cruel Jackson, the murderer, the ruthless man… But it was just as impossible tonight as it had been to remember the sweet Jackson from the airport after he'd revealed his mission back on the flight.

She nodded and swallowed hard.

"Why are you here, Jackson?"

'_Because'. _

She already knew the answer to that question.

And it scared her more than anything.

-


	6. Permission And One Lie

**Author's note: **Sweet readers! Thank you for all your lovely reviews, I appreciate it so very much! This chapter is… I don't know how to describe it! And maybe it's better if I let you be the judges.

And all my previous warnings apply.

Good read. /Nic.

**-**

**Chapter 6 Permission And One Lie**

Lisa looked into his unbelievable blue eyes and his open and honest face. It was his eyes that had captured her from start; she had never seen anything like them. She had thought she'd seen right into his soul. Then they had turned all cold, like he had shut something internal down. But now they were lit with… hope? Innocence? Pain? Want? Maybe all of it. She didn't know… but there was nothing cold about his eyes as he held her gaze. Her heart was pounding, her mouth turned dry and her limbs felt weak and trembling.

She licked her lips, nervous, reluctant to give up her control.

Yes, she'd had her heart broken. She'd had her LIFE broken, and it had taken her more than a year to begin to rebuild her inner faith. Now the wounds were ripped open all over again and she was bleeding.

All she wanted to do was to push him away and get her life back. _What life, Leese? As a loner? Never letting anyone close? Always spending your weekends with your dad…_

Jackson's gaze diverted from her eyes to her lips. Lisa involuntarily opened them. Almost as if her body took the matter in its own hands, wanting to let him in.

Lisa cleared her throat. "Tell me something. How come you didn't come her hell-bent on killing me? Last time I saw you, you seemed all too eager to cut my throat. What changed?"

Jackson smiled briefly and hesitated, sucking on his lip, seemingly contemplating her question. "I never intended to kill you to begin with, Leese."

"Really? You could've fooled me."

"Yeah, I know… If you hadn't fought back like you did, we wouldn't have gotten to that situation in the first place."

"Oh no, no, come ON. Don't you DARE tell me it's my own fault." Her eyes flashed with a sudden onset of anger.

"No, like I said back at the restroom earlier today, I don't blame you," he answered calmly. "But I'm just letting you know the facts. I'd have left you at Starbuck's after I got the call."

"So why did you follow me to my dad's house?"

"You DID piss me off, Leese. Stabbing that fucking pen in my throat... It made me mad as hell. You should've been able to guess that. I went there with every intention to kill you."

Lisa went pale. Of course she had known that, but hearing it, face to face with her would-be murderer gave it a frighteningly new dimension. It made her feel vulnerable, like the topic in itself could bring the violence back once more.

"But you didn't…" she said softly, defensive.

"You fought back pretty well." He grinned, and a brief smile crossed her own face before she turned serious again.

"But you had more than one chance…" She remembered almost getting strangled by the hockey stick and how he suddenly threw it across the room, letting her breathe, responding with unexpected mercy to her silent plea for life.

"Something made me change my mind."

"What?" she whispered.

He smiled. "That's the million dollar question, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Lisa smiled weakly back at him.

He took her hand in his and let his thumb slowly caress the side of her thumb. A shudder went through her as she let it happen. His touch was an almost unbearable erotic sensation and it took her breath away.

Lisa hesitated. _Let him keep holding my hand, or pull it away?_ If she let him, she knew it would be an open invitation. She wasn't stupid, and neither was he.

"Wh-" She had no voice and had to start over. "What made you change your mind?" Her eyes darted to their hands as he progressed to caress the sensitive inside of her wrist.

"I haven't given you permission to do that," she whispered.

Jackson smiled and raised his eyebrows. "Ha. No, true. But you'd never do that either, now would you?"

A heavy sensation settled in her stomach. _No, you're probably right. _She shook her head, slowly, unable to take her eyes off his. _How can ice be so warm?_

"Why did you change your mind?" she asked again in a low, clearly affected voice.

"You made me change my mind, Lisa."

"What?"

"You - and a bullet."

"No, after I shot you… you came after me with the knife…"

"That was YOUR bullet… Your dad's, Leese. Made me change my mind."

Lisa angrily pulled her hand out of his. "Well, of course it did! You were on the floor at that point, dying! Difficult to kill someone then, isn't it?"

"Don't get so worked up about it. Jeez. It wasn't the bullet in itself, Leese. But what you did after."

"What… did I…?" Her memory was blurred and all kinds of images from the last moments in her dad's house flashed through her mind. A long knife. A fight. A kiss. Something stirred in her stomach and her hand tingled at the memory of the recent touch.

"You cared, Leese. Your eyes, so unbelievably caring and concerned, helped me to take that next breath I needed to survive. Your eyes are the last thing I remember. Then I woke with tubes in my throat and chest, unable to speak or even think clearly. Drugged to keep the pain away. Nothing I can recommend," he finished dryly.

"I thought you'd die…"

"You hoped."

"NO!" All the agony from the first days before she knew he'd live washed over her. Then she covered her mouth and stared at him in disbelief. _What did I just say?_

Jackson smiled. "You cared for me. Do you still?"

Lisa's heart rate began to pick up again. "Why should I?" she hissed. "I don-"

"Good question. Why do you?"

She shook her head. "I didn't say that!"

"That's what you keep saying…" Lisa opened her mouth to protest. "-between the lines," he finished.

"No, no, no. That's what you HOPE!"

"Maybe."

"No maybe, Jackson."

Leaning closer, he took both of her hands in his and brought them to his thighs, where he held them, his hands covering hers. Lisa's hands trembled in his hold, and she could feel the well-defined muscles of his legs working under her palms as he shifted.

"Can you honestly look me in the eyes and tell me you don't care about me?"

She looked up at him and swallowed hard. Easing her hands out of his grip, she stared challengingly back at him. "I do not care about you - Jack."

Suddenly he was on her. Moving faster than her eye had caught, he had pushed her back down against the bed and was on top of her, kissing her fiercely. Lisa gasped and was about to protest when he let her go abruptly – too abruptly, and sat back up.

"Good, 'cause I don't care about you the least either."

Lisa panted and her chest heaved. Her hands moved against her will and were in mid air, towards him to grip him, to bring him back to her, when she caught herself doing it and froze.

Jackson glanced at her hands and then back at her, licked his lower lip with his tongue and smiled. His eyes glittered with tease.

"I thought you never lied," she said, and sat back up again.

"You think many things. Have you figured out what I'm doing here yet?"

Her heart began pounding louder in her ears. She shook her head. "No."

Jackson cocked his head. "Really?"

"You want to…" She bit her lip. Afraid to start something she couldn't follow through. " – touch me…"

"I want you to touch ME."

_What?_ "You've lost your mind."

"And do you think you're in ANY position to say that just now?"

Lisa pouted. "Yes."

"You're brave. I like that in you." He smirked. "But look at you."

"What?"

"There's nothing you'd rather want."

"IF I would have wanted just that, then maybe you and your big mouth ruined the moment."

She blinked once and twitched barely visible when he lifted his hand to caress her cheek. The touch was slow and sensual and Lisa wanted so much to feel some more of this warmth and at the same time the rational part of her kept pushing him away.

"Jackson," she whispered. "Can we please..."

"What?" he asked, looking deep into her eyes. Lisa found herself captivated by his beautiful, clear blue gaze and swallowed nervously. She'd forgotten what she was about to say. Her lips parted as her heart pounded louder in her chest.

She didn't flinch when he touched her again; letting the tip of his index finger caress the outline of her lower lip. Instead she closed her eyes and revelled in the soft warm sensation he created in her chest and the butterflies in her stomach.

When she felt his lips on hers, ever so softly, her eyes flew open. His were closed and a mere inch away. The calm expression on his face, the trusting act of closing his eyes in her presence touched her stronger than any words. Feeling a vortex of need begin to build, she lifted a hand and lay her palm against his cheek. She felt him smile against her lips, and then he claimed them. Wrapping both his arms around her, he deepened his kiss and tasted her.

Lisa responded with a low moan and let him in. As the kiss intensified, he let his hands slide over her back, his thumbs stroking soothing circles on her back, lower and lower until the tingling in her body made her gasp.

When he slowly tilted her on her back with himself on top, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down with her. The movement so mutual, so desperate not to break the contact once it was created. As if any wrong move might interrupt the fragile peace between them.

-

-

Jackson's head was spinning by her closeness and her scent. He was more than delighted to have her so close to where he wanted. This had worked even better than he'd thought. Maybe it was her vulnerability from the crying and the injury that had co-worked to gain her trust.

_Don't make the mistake again. She doesn't trust you that easily. _He looked down at her._ But you ARE letting me in, Leese..._

He broke the kiss and met her gaze as she opened her eyes. "What do you want, Lisa?" He was surprised by how thick his own voice sounded. _Get a grip!_

Her chest heaved against his and his arousal came rolling like a tidal wave, unstoppable, as he felt her soft breasts press into him. _Say you want me._

She swallowed hard underneath him, and he smiled softly, kissing her forehead.

"This is why you came?" she finally whispered.

He licked his lips as he regarded her. "I followed you for eight weeks, Leese."

"You told me. That's a bit creepy." She shifted under him and he slid off her and placed himself right beside her instead, his head propped up on one hand, and the other arm still held over her chest.

Protectively.

Possessively.

He smiled briefly and turned serious again. _I kinda creeped myself out too..._

"Ahm, yeah. It was a bit longer than what was necessary." He paused. "I expected you to be a bitch, you know." She flinched and looked up at him, frowning. "You behaved like one, at least when I looked at you from the outside."

Lisa frowned deeper. "Why? I'm always trying to be nice, even with strangers..." He felt her chest heave deeply once, like something just occurred to her.

"What?" he asked.

"No," she shook her head.

"Did you think about me? Or him...?"

She pressed her lips tightly together, which was half an answer enough. "A little of both I'd say," she finally answered with a thick voice.

Jackson caressed her chin and followed the curve of her cheek up to her forehead, where his thumb erased the troubled lines that had appeared. He smiled inwardly when she leaned into his touch.

_Gotcha!_

"People pleaser?"

She sighed and smiled weakly. "Twenty-four-seven."

"But then we met. And you weren't. You are intelligent, kind, beautiful, stronger than you think and overall a totally captivating woman to get to know. And it blew me away."

Lisa just gaped. His lips twitched, wanting to laugh at the look on her face at that moment.

"Then... if you felt like that... Why did you do all those things? Why did you kidnap me, threaten my father, try to kill me... ?"

"I had to, Leese. It was my job."

"Was?"

"Is."

Was it disappointment he saw in her eyes for a second? It hit his heart like a brief and unexpected stab.

"And I expected it to pass. I expected to forget you. But you burned yourself into the hard desk of my memory - and my body - fighting back like you did, being who you are..." He leaned closer, frowning and pretending to be angry. "I've never been overpowered before, Leese."

"God, you must have met weak victims!" She ducked when he grabbed a pillow and hit her head with it. The laugh lingered at their lips as their eyes met.

_Touch me, Leese. Touch me. Touch me. Touch me..._

-

-

She didn't know what it was, but something made her want to remain close to him. His eyes glittered and his breath was warm at her skin. His body fit so perfectly against hers as they lay side by side on her bed in the dusky room.

"I want..." She inhaled and tried again. "I couldn't stop thinking of you. I thought I was going insane, that I was probably damaged, mentally, for feeling for you after what you did."

She closed her eyes and melted into his touch as he stroked some hair off her forehead.

"You might be hurt. Or not. But you didn't fall for the man at the airplane, Leese. Don't punish yourself. You fell for the man at the airport, the gentleman who stood up for you in the line, the man who bought you a drink..."

"But he doesn't exist!"

"Yes, he does."

"No, you are not that man, you are... you are a terrible person. And I can't let you closer." she exhaled shakily after it was said.

"Yes, you can," he whispered and leaned in on her, once more capturing her mouth, pulling her towards him. "And I'm not that bad," he mumbled in her mouth, making her smile against her will.

She loved the feel of his body against hers. His tender touch made all her nerve endings tingle with excitement, and as he pressed himself closer, she could feel how much he wanted her. It made her feel special, and loved - in spite of the madness of it.

Lisa didn't protest when she felt his warm hand under her shirt, caressing its way along her belly, hesitating at the edge of her bra before it, ever so slowly, cupped one breast and stilled.

Gasping, she arched into his touch with her head spinning.

_No. Yes. No. Yes. No. yes-no-yes-no-ye..._

-


	7. Touched By An Angel, Torn By The Devil

**Author's note:** You all knew it would come to this… This chapter; dreaded by some and awaited by some…

I've laid my soul in it. Read it with care.

Love, Nicolina.

-

**Chapter 7 Touched By An Angel, Torn By The Devil**

She was still under his hand. He felt her heart beat; it pounded fast in her chest. His pulse assumed her rhythm as he let his fingers slowly pull down the cup of her bra to reveal the heavenly softness underneath.

He felt her gasp as he slowly made circles around her nipple with his thumb, feeling her response stretch towards him. Her breathing halted as he unbuttoned the top button of her blouse. Then she exhaled when he proceeded with the remaining ones, waiting a little after each to see if she would object.

Slowly pushing the fabric aside, he marvelled at her pale skin. _Pale in Miami ? Not out much, are you, Leese?_ His hand moved on its own, seeking out the only imperfection. She flinched and opened her mouth as if to say something when he let the tip of his index finger trace the callous outline of the scar.

"You are beautiful."

In spite of the lack of light in the room, he thought he saw a tear in the corner of her eye.

"What do you want, Leese?"

-

-

She took his hand in hers. Away from the hated mark on her body. She didn't want him to touch it. It was repulsive. She lay his hand with the palm down between her breasts, pressing it against her beating heart.

_I want you to make me forget. _

"Would you just lie here?" she finally asked.

Jackson didn't even blink. He covered her up again and snuggled closer, pulling her towards him so that she had her back tightly pressed against his chest. His breath was hot on her neck and his body so close it felt like they melted together.

Listening to the sounds of the ocean outside, she felt content for the first time since longer than she wanted to think of. Her eyes fell on the red digits on her alarm clock. _Four minutes past two. He's been here over three hours… soon I've doubled my time with him… _It was a strange thought and as she drifted off to sleep, she felt grateful to the man next to her, holding her tightly, making her feel safe.

Almost like she mattered.

"Thank you," she mumbled, on the verge of sleep. She thought she felt him flinch.

-

-

When they woke, the first pale rays of sunshine had begun shining through windows that had never been covered. _It must still be early. _

And their bodies were on fire.

Lisa shifted slightly, her whole being tingled from his presence, every little fibre in her wanted to touch him, to envelop in his closeness, his warmth and his scent. She wanted to feel his skin against hers.

_Touch me._

-

-

Jackson was already awake when he felt her breathing change and knew she was awake too. Sleep had refused to come to him. Feeling her fall asleep in his arms had been such a sacred experience that he'd remained awake with a trembling heart. He felt her first shaky breath when she realized she wasn't alone.

And he felt her press against him.

On her own free will.

And his body ignited all over again.

_Lisa._

His mind stretched to her.

_Turn around. Turn around. Please. _

-

-

Lisa lifted her hand and touched his hand that was still covering her heart. He caught her hand in his and squeezed it. His other hand threaded through her hair while he shifted and let his lips touch her ear.

Shivering, she turned her head towards his. He had happy warm eyes and her heart erupted in longing and a deep feeling of belonging. Smiling, she cupped his cheeks in her hands and leaned closer until her lips touched his. Her eyes carried a question and when she saw the light in his eyes, she captured his lips and kissed him.

_Oh my God, I'm kissing him… _

-

-

_You kissed me!_

-

-

There was no turning back when he began to caress the blouse off her body. Still kissing, she unbuttoned his shirt, one button after another, until she could feel his warm taut stomach underneath her trembling fingers. She pushed the shirt off his shoulders, and he wriggled the blouse out from under her.

Lisa let go of his mouth and took a first long look at Jackson Rippner, half undressed, here - with her...

Breathless, she lifted a hand to trace the almost round scar at his throat, then she followed a well defined muscle down to an angry red scar to the right of his sternum. _He survived that one… _With a feather light touch, she let her palm stroke his stomach, feeling the string of coarse hair that disappeared under the waistband of his trousers. His muscles tensed and his nipples hardened as goosebumps erupted under her touch. To the left on his abdomen, she circled the other rather ugly fresh scar.

_I did that._

_I should say I'm sorry… but I can't… _

_HE should say he's sorry… _

_But I guess he can't do that either… _

-

-

Jackson's heart was beating wildly in his chest during her examination of his wounds. He wanted so badly to rip the rest of her clothes off and sink deep into that soft warm body of hers.

But he waited patiently. He was good at being patient.

And he loved the feel of her hands on his body. She was like a newborn kitten, opening her eyes for the first time, discovering the world. It touched him in a way he hadn't calculated on. That HE gave her something. That she opened herself to him.

"Did it hurt?" she finally asked.

He shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. "No. I barely felt it."

"How did you feel when you were lying on the floor? Did you regret anything? Did you think you were going to die?"

"I felt weak. I couldn't breathe. And I felt you…"

Lisa's lips formed an 'O', as he pushed her on her back with himself on top, covering her mouth with his. With a few moves, he yanked her skirt down past her knees. Lisa did the rest, kicking it off one of her legs. She unbuckled his belt and he ripped open his pants and pushed them off his hips. Lisa wrapped her legs around him and pushed them the rest of the way with her feet.

_You're driving me insane! GOD I want you, Lisa! _

The raw intensity of that feeling shook him.

-

-

They were almost naked together. Still wearing underwear, but she could feel him press hard against her and the intense sensation of his want made her gasp with need and arousal.

_Never thought I'd feel this again. And with YOU! _

She stretched behind her back and unclasped the hook of her bra. Jackson's eyes glittered as he slowly freed her breasts. The cool air on her skin gave her goosebumps, but as Jackson laid his hands on her, she arched into him and met his touch.

He kissed his way over her body. She let herself be explored and dwelled in the exquisite feeling of his lips moving over her belly, towards the lining of her panties.

When he began tugging at them, he lifted his head and looked her straight in the eyes. She didn't nod, and she didn't deny him. But her eyes told him everything.

_I want you. I want you to. _

_Make me forget._

When he finally touched her, she was more ready than she could remember ever being before. Arching into his caress, she let him explore her with his hands and mouth until she almost cried with joy and pleasure.

_Take me, Jackson._

-

-

He was lost in her. Her body called to his and the game they played was one of mutual attraction, strong enough to overcome their misfortunate beginning. This was what they were meant for.

Jackson freed himself of his boxers and his pulse quickened even more as he felt her nakedness against his.

_What do you want, Lisa? Soon it's much too late to say you won't… _

"Are you ready for this?" he asked in a husky voice.

Her eyes met his, and with the smallest of smiles she licked her lower lip and brought his head down to hers. With lips meeting, she whispered into his mouth. "Make me forget, Jackson. Give me good memories."

And so he did.

Lisa arched into him and he nearly erupted with pleasure.

_I love you, Li-_

-

-

Lisa almost cried. He filled her completely, her heart melted into his, their bodies united and there was no other place on earth where she'd rather be than right here, right now.

_With you._

When the release came, they shook in each others arms. Clinging to one another, the waves of their orgasms washed over them, leaving them dizzy and trembling.

For one moment making them forget who they were.

_Oh my God, I love you. _

-

-

After, they lay in each others arm, their skin glistening, happy.

Sated.

Lisa refused to think. There was no after, since there couldn't be any after, only now. So she wouldn't think of it.

She was happy.

It was still early.

"Hold me," she whispered. And he did.

Completely relaxed they soon drifted off to sleep. This time they both slept.

-

-

When they woke the sun had risen a little higher on the sky. The shimmering hallucinations at the horizon carried a promise of another hot day. In the bright light from the still uncovered windows, they couldn't hide anymore.

Lisa was beautiful.

Like he'd known.

He HAD after all been watching her for eight weeks. The job had had its advantages. And, later, its disadvantages… But he refused to think of that right now. Like he wouldn't think of what was to come. All that mattered right now was the feelings her naked body created as she lay, like glued to his. Small beads of sweat had begun to form under her breasts, and with the tip of his index finger, he caressed them away. His insides clenched with a sudden need to possess her as Lisa gripped his hand and directed it to her breast.

If the first time had been tender, slow and caring, the second time was like continuing the fight in the bedroom in her father's house. Biting, gripping, clawing and gasping, they made their way to the other's body. When he sucked at her scar, she gasped and arched into him, finally accepting that he wanted her in spite of it. Maybe allowing his touch to burn away the memory of how it got there, planting new ones instead. She retaliated by pinching the raw scars on his abdomen and chest, biting into them and making him hiss with pain.

_Enjoy that one?_

He paid her back by effortlessly flipping her on her back and sink into her in one deep move.

_You are beautiful, Lisa! So. Fucking. Beautiful! _

-

-

It was like they punished each other for the wrongs they'd done. And still it didn't frighten her. She loved the feeling of his skin on hers, the beads of sweat that left his forehead and dropped onto her. His crystal blue eyes that shone with lust and excitement. It didn't scare her because she knew she must be radiating the same.

They didn't speak much. Maybe they were afraid to disturb the fragile peace between them. Maybe there just wasn't any need for words.

"Do you like this," he whispered, sliding his hand lower over her belly to the point where her thighs met.

Lisa gasped as he deftly touched her most tender spot.

"Yes!" She arched into him and pulled him closer, allowing him once more to fully possess both her body and mind.

-

-

The bright sky over the Atlantic had begun to tremble from the approaching heat and nature seemed to hold its breath as if before an upcoming disaster. A curtain moved with a sudden breeze, cooling them off.

Lisa pulled away slightly when Jackson suddenly stood. He gazed at her with an unreadable expression as he pulled his boxers back on, continuing with pants and his shirt. His blue eyes dull, like the light in them had been shut off. At first she was confused, but then a cold hand gripped her heart. She didn't breathe, just waited; bracing herself.

He smirked. "That was great, Leese. Figured it'd be good, but I never thought you'd be such an animal in bed."

His words hit her like a stab in her chest. They stared at each other in silence. "What are you doing?" she finally asked.

"Leaving. Like I told you I would. Don't you know that by now? I never lie." He stepped into his shoes and went for his suit jacket. "It was a really great fuck. Best in weeks... probably months." He cocked his head and regarded her. Something flickered through his eyes, but then it was gone. He smiled, sinisterly.

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered, pain and humiliation burning in her chest. "You're hurting me, Jackson," she said slowly, still unable to grasp what he was doing.

His eyes turned cold as ice as he leaned over her bed, making her shrink back. "A little late to think of that now, isn't it? You should've just done what I told you to begin with."

Lisa shivered. In spite of the heat, she was freezing cold. "Leave," she rasped and pulled the top sheet up to cover her naked body. "LEAVE!" she shouted furiously, blinking to stop the tears that threatened to fall.

His smirk turned into a full blow malicious smile.

"Knew I'd get to you."

-

-

Jackson turned on his heels and left, hurriedly. With long cool strides he tried to stop himself from fleeing out the door. The look on Lisa's face had been too much. _What the fuck are you doing?_

He rushed out of her house with a feeling of something burning in his chest, eating him alive. And the pain didn't stop as he drove off, away from the rising sun, away from Lisa's little beach house. Instead it roared in his heart and he felt like he'd swallowed acid.

_I'm so sor..._

-


	8. Win Some, Lose Some, Lose It

**Auhtor's note: **Hey you.I got a lot of response for the last chapter. Perhaps not entirely unexpected… Highly appreciated, though. Thank you all who took your time. :) I read words like 'fluffy' and that Jackson was, or was close to be 'out of character'. What? Don't you ladies have some faith? Don't you believe that Jackson would be able to show affection and tenderness? Well… I've tried to warn you, and I won't do it again. OK, maybe once more: My Jackson isn't your ordinary psychopath, and I'M NOT GOING TO GIVE MORE AWAY BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO RUIN THE END!

**AN 2:** I mention a hospital in this chapter. I've tried to search the net… If you happen to be a Miami resident and this hospital doesn't exist, or doesn't have an ER. Please forgive me for taking liberties. And feel free to suggest a better alternative. :)

-

**Chapter 8 Win Some, Lose Some, Lose it**

It hurt.

It hurt so much that she could barely breathe. Years of distrust, of hiding from emotions and all things in life that brought them on, had been carefully unlocked by a skilled mind that she had begun to have some kind of faith in, and now she was plummeted back into a swirling vortex of hurt.

It had been a moment's work.

Lisa remained sitting on her bed on the same spot, wrapped in her sheet, staring at the empty doorway where he'd left. In spite of the heat she was shivering. She felt raped all over again, but it wasn't true either…

He'd lied.

_HE LIED! He says he never lies... but he DOES. At least he has never been true... Playing nice, but being cruel; playing a tender lover, but crushing me when he's done… _

She hugged her knees and her whole body shook involuntarily, unable to shake off the contempt he'd shown her, and her own feeling of being filthy.

_That was his revenge! _

With frightening clarity, she realized that Jackson had aimed his stab where it would hurt the most. Not with physical pain; he had tried that once and failed. Not by raping her again; somehow she knew he considered himself above that.

But by crushing her faith, the little she'd had…

If she hadn't been in such acute despair, she'd had acknowledged his gift for reading people. He knew the only thing that would get her to make the phone call was to threaten her father. And now; he'd known that she'd felt something for him… and used it against her.

_NO!_

Her body still hummed from the balance and beauty they'd created in their meeting, but Lisa was beginning to shut herself down. She felt betrayed by her own body. It had thoroughly enjoyed the night with Jackson, and he had handled her beautifully… except for humiliating her completely when he left.

_I HATE YOU!_

At first, she was unable to cry, but when the thought struck her how good he'd made her feel while they were… _making love…?_ Then the pain got too heavy to carry, and the tears came.

Hiccupping and sobbing loudly, she cried freely for the most part of that day. Eventually, she got dressed and limped to her couch. She didn't bother to open the windows and the steamy heat in her room added to the feeling of being suffocated.

Lisa didn't care.

With her face frozen into a mask of despair she, at some point during the afternoon, made a bowl of tasteless instant soup and ate it.

Refusing to think, or to feel, she sat in her couch, glaring at the sunny ocean as the shadows grew longer and once more crawled upon her like cancer.

_It didn't happen. He's a nobody and he's out of my life. He got his revenge on me, but I'm OK. _

_I'm OK. _

_I'm alive. _

_And he's nobody. _

_I hate him._

_No. He's no one. _

The pain in her feet pounded relentlessly, and late that evening, when it was almost dark, she called a taxi and went to the ER in South Miami Memorial.

It was stupid.

It was Saturday evening in Miami during tourist season. And she'd only had her heart broken. Things like that don't show in blood samples or on cat scan. They admitted her for her wounded feet, though.

Lisa had to wait for three and a half hour before she could see a doctor. The misery of it all fit her mood. And in some sense it was a good wake-up call to see the people waiting with her. The asthmatic old lady; thin and scared. The little boy with a strained ankle, exhausted and crying. The young woman who left in a hurry, crying helplessly. Did her mother die? Was she just diagnosed with some terrible disease?

For a moment she forgot about herself and just observed the world. It turned whether she was on it or not. It hadn't stopped because she was in pain.

A tall and very young intern dispassionately examined her feet. He had a huge Adam's apple that she couldn't help staring at. _How can he even be a doctor yet?_ His voice was soft, but tired.

"How did this happen, Miss?"

"Oh, I…I dropped a glass and accidentally stepped on it."

"And when was this?" He looked suspicious.

She felt uneasy under his scrutiny. "Eh…last night…" Her voice trailed off, unsure, she realized how stupid it must sound.

He looked up at her. "And why didn't you come here until now?"

"Ahm…. I thought I'd be OK…" It hurt so much to think of WHY she hadn't come, what had kept her occupied…

"These wounds are too old now, some of them would've needed stitches, but in this heat and all... they might be infected, and stitching them up would just lock the germs in."

"Just do what you have to do, doc," Lisa muttered. She didn't really care.

"Did someone do this to you? Do you want to report any abuse, Miss?"

Lisa twitched and looked at him sharply. _There is no real punishment for what he did any way... there's no law... Just some simple humanity would've been great, though._

She shook her head and sighed heavily inwardly. "No. No. There's no abuse. I did this, and... maybe I wasn't entirely sober..." She made up the lie as she spoke, knowing that if she claimed to have been drunk, all suspicions of anything fishy would disappear.

And it did.

She watched him change his attitude. It was subtle, but she could feel how the atmosphere changed in the room from some remains of empathy to 'blame yourself'.

Lisa spent two more hours waiting for an x-ray to see if there were any shards left. Obviously there weren't.

Finally the same intern cleaned her wounds up and applied new bandages. It hurt to remember Jackson's tender touch that had sent shivers up and down her spine, and to compare that to the uninterested doctor in front of her.

_I wish... _

_NO, I don't want anything._

_I just wanted things to have been different..._

Lisa took a taxi back home. It was two thirty in the morning. _Twenty-four hours ago..._No, she didn't want to think about that. From now on she would never think about it.

Ever.

Her heart leapt as she saw a note on her front door as she limped out of the taxi. She hurriedly paid the driver.

"Take care, honey," he said in such a friendly voice that she almost started crying again.

"Thanks," she muttered and managed a weak smile as the door shut closed behind her. Holding her breath, she took the stairs carefully and ripped down the note.

_**Lisa, I've tried to call you, but you're not answering. Please call me. /Dad.**_

Lisa sighed deeply with relief... or was it disappointment?

_Dad. _

_Sorry, dad. I'm so sorry... _She could never share this with him. Not with any one.

She dragged herself inside and slumped on her couch. She'd sleep there tonight; the bed was out of the question until she'd changed the sheets. Hugging her knees, she rocked back and forth, comforting herself. With a feeling of emptiness and unbearable loneliness, she finally fell asleep early that Sunday morning as the sun cast its first hesitant rays over the horizon once more.

It was going to be another hot day.

-

-

He was driving north. It had been his plan all along. Washington was a big and dirty city with an insane crime rate. A place where people could easily get lost. Jackson planned to get lost there for a while.

Driving all morning until he'd almost fallen asleep by the steering wheel, he'd finally decided for a motel and had checked in under the name of Ian Madden. The bed spun as he lay down and closed his eyes. Still he was unable to sleep. He realized his mistake as soon as he didn't have to focus on the driving anymore, or to stay awake.

Her eyes came back to haunt him.

His body was still purring like a satisfied cat from the previous night. He'd known he wanted her. The thought of her still made something stir inside of him. He'd figured that if he possessed her once, then she'd be out of his head for good and he could get back at her at the same time.

_Bad fucking idea, Jack-fucking-the Ripper! _

He tossed and turned and pulled a pillow over his head to shut the day out and to suffocate the thoughts that crawled their way to the surface of his mind. Shivering, he remembered the thrill when Lisa with a cool soft hand had touched the skin on his chest, when she has circled his scars, almost as if wanting to mend them.

He had adored her scar. Not because how it was made, but because it was on her body. On HER body.

_'Give me good memories.'_

_I didn't... did I?_ With a sudden stab of pain, he realized he hadn't. He'd hurt her more than he had wanted. Just as much as intended... but more than he had wanted. He knew that. He'd known it was wrong before he'd even gotten out of her bed.

_And still you had to pull through, you fucker!_

Extreme tiredness finally got the better of Jackson, and he collapsed into unconsciousness, into a sleep filled with agonizing dreams.

-

-

The late Sunday morning found Lisa stiff and sore. Confused at first, she wondered what she was doing on her couch. Then, mercilessly, it all came back. Stumbling on hurting feet, she fled to the bathroom and dry retched in the toilet. Pale and sweaty, she sunk back against the wall. This seemed to be the story of her life lately - throwing up in toilets and having HIM showing up unexpectedly behind her back.

He wasn't there, though.

Not this time.

_And STAY away!_

Suddenly desperate for a shower, she started to get up. Looking down at her padded feet, she swore to herself and then she ripped the bandages off and stepped into the tub.

She winced as the scalding hot water hit her feet, then she sighed with relief from the cleansing shower. It was cathartic. Washing thoroughly, she shampooed her hair and soaped her skin several times, wanting to erase any traces of HIM.

Finishing with ice cold water, she then wrapped herself in a big towel and sat on the toilet to examine her feet for the first time. They weren't bleeding anymore, but she could see that there were plenty of cuts, and some of them were rather deep. Jackson must have had a strong stomach to be able to search all of these for glass. She didn't find any shards herself and applied the bandages back on her throbbing feet.

Ferociously, she changed the sheets and put them in the laundry.

And finally, she was finished.

From now on, she would only look forward. She looked fresh, smelled of soap and shampoo. _I'll be OK, I'll live again... Now I'll only have to try to eat something…_ Her stomach revolted at that thought.

In the silent house, the phone suddenly rang. Lisa almost had a heart attack, and limped to answer. _Dad...Or...__ No. Not him. _

"Hey, it's Dean Turner," a happy and hopeful voice at the other end of the line said.

_Oh... Dean._ Was it a slight disappointment she felt? "Hey." She made an effort to sound fairly normal. How could he sound so cheerful?

"How – eh - how are you doing?" he asked.

_Like shit!_ She snorted silently. "I'm fine, thanks."

"Listen." Lisa could hear the tremble in his voice. "It's a beautiful day, and I was wondering if you would like to have lunch with me at the marina?"

_No, not really. _

Then it dawned on her; was this an attempt to hit at her? It had hung heavily in the air last few times they'd met and Lisa had feared that he would bring something like this up sooner or later.

_Are you asking me out for a date?_

"Sure," she found herself saying, in spite of the fact that all she wanted to do was to hide and cry. "What time?"

"Well, it's already late... What if I pick you up in about half an hour?"

"OK. Yeah, that'd be fine. Eh. It'll be nice." Her heart was lacking all emotions as she accepted his offer. _I have issues, Dean. I have ghosts from the past that will ruin everything I touch. But don't worry; it'll ruin this in record time. You won't even have time to suffer._

Maybe it wouldn't be that bad? She knew he liked her, or maybe even more. And he treated her like a queen.

Lisa needed that. She really, really needed that.

-

-

_She was walking quietly in front of him at the beach. Her long blue skirt flew around her legs in the wind. They were alone. Funny to be alone on the beach on a day like this. Then he realized there had been a tornado warning and that must be why. _

_Lisa strode forwards in the increasing wind. Her feet must have already healed, because she had no problems keeping up the speed. _

"_Lisa" He called for her; he needed to warn her about the upcoming storm. The increasing wind kept erasing all sounds from him, though. _

_Running only made his feet dig deeper in the sand, and soon it would be too late. His heart rate picked up and his movements became more panicky. Frustrated he yelled for her again; he was close enough, she should have heard that. Either she hadn't, or she didn't want to listen to him. _

_Increasingly frightened, he knew she'd be in danger if he didn't reach her. _

"_LISA! _

"_Listen to me, Lisa! I'm sorry; I didn't mean to hurt you!" He stumbled and fell on his knees, the wind immediately blew white sand in his eyes, and he rubbed them, trying to clear them not to lose contact with her. _

_When he looked back up she was gone. "LISAAAA!_

_He got up on his knees and fell over again. _

Jackson woke when he almost feel to the floor. He lay unmoving with a pounding heart. His whole body was on alert and he knew he must warn... Rescue...

_Warn who?_ Suddenly it all seemed so unreal and increasingly ridiculous. His mind had been pulling some stunt with him, and there was no danger. No one to save.

It was late, the sun had begun to set, and Jackson quickly gathered his belongings and continued his journey north.

He refused to think of Lisa, and still his mind kept stretching towards her little beach house and a pale body on white sheets in a dusky room.

_There is no now, because there is no future..._

_Well, fuck it!_

-


	9. For What It's Worth

**Author's note:** Thanks again all you lovely readers and reviewers out there. Much appreciated. :)

I saw one comment on Dean, asking if he is bad… Honey, you know I can't comment on that. Well, I could, but then I'd have to kill you after. ;) Quite a few of you are angry with Jackson and think he's one piece of shit. Well, remember; he's only human, he's not superman, sometimes he's misjudging things as well. And, anyway; there is someone else who is angry too…

Enjoy, folks. /Nic.

**-**

**Chapter 9 For What It's Worth**

With limbs heavy from an indefinable feeling of grief, Lisa put on a pair of beige shorts and a white linen blouse. Staring at the scar above her right chest, she remembered how he'd touched it, caressed it… almost worshipped it. He'd made her forget...

_But then..._

Lisa gritted her teeth and finished dressing. She stopped dead when she realized she didn't know what to put on her feet. She didn't want to keep the bandages on because she didn't want any questions and she wasn't sure she could fool Dean; he was a police investigator after all... Still it hurt too much too try to walk without them.

Finally she padded the insides of a pair of soft boots with cotton and practiced to walk in them without limping. It wasn't a perfect solution, but when Lisa Reisert set her mind on something, she pulled it through!

A soft knock on the door alerted her that her escort was waiting. She knew who it would be, and still... still she couldn't help but think for a moment that it could be...

_NO, Leese! No._

Making her way to the front of the house, she found Dean Turner outside, smiling; sweat beads on his upper lips, his bald scalp shining in the relentless sun.

He looked more relaxed than she'd seen him before, tanned, in white linen pants and a dark blue shirt. It looked good on him.

Lisa smiled, and pushed everything - everything - deep down into the dark recesses of her soul. It was never to be looked at again.

_Life goes on._

They actually had a pleasant afternoon. Dean took her to a sea food restaurant by the shore. He'd made reservations and obviously they knew him there, because the service was outstanding. Blushing slightly, he admitted that he was a son of a fisherman and that his cousin had owned this place up until a year ago. They still kept up the quality, and he'd continued to come here occasionally.

And Lisa had been right. He treated her like a queen.

It was nice for a difference.

_Not having to fight..._ and as soon as the thought had formed in her mind, she felt an intense sadness but pushed it aside.

Dean actually had a good sense of humor beneath that strict police façade, and Lisa found the afternoon more pleasant than she had expected. It had been torture, though, to walk from the car to their table, but she had managed to keep up a smiling face.

Lisa was a good liar._ 'I think you're not such an honest person.'_

_GET OUT OF MY HEAD!_

Now they had been sitting for a couple of hours. Talking. Well, he had done most of the talking and Lisa had been listening. They both seemed happy with that. Lisa had ordered a Sea Breeze after the meal, and Dean was drinking a beer. As the alcohol gradually reached her brain and slowed her speeding mind down somewhat, she began to relax in the hot afternoon.

_This could be OK._

_It really could. I deserve this._

-

-

Jackson stared with empty eyes on mile after mile of asphalt before him. It was only nine in the morning, but the heat already made the black road shimmer and waver and it seemed to rise, mixing hallucinatory with the blue-grey sky above him. He had been driving all night, desperately aiming to put as much distance as possible between himself and the disaster behind him.

Except that the disaster WAS him.

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. Adrenaline rushed through him as the car suddenly jerked to the left. Swearing, he straightened it and focused on the driving, realizing he needed to rest.

Mike and Alexei waited for him in Washington on Monday afternoon, and he was already late. He had chosen to drive since it would leave far less traces. Still he would have himself killed if he continued like this. It hit him how the destructive patterns of his life manifested themselves over and over again. He never built anything, it was all just illusionary, all he was good at was tearing things - and lives - apart.

He abruptly hit the break and steered to the side. A car behind him honked angrily at him as it sped by, but Jackson barely noticed.

_Am I forever doomed to repeat the mistakes? Do I have to re-live their lives? Do I really?_

The thoughts of his fucked-up parents made him unconsciously twist his mouth into a grimace of rage.

Numbly, he turned off the car and stared at the road in front of him. The heat was beginning to creep upon him as the air condition didn't work when the engine wasn't running.

_Lisa._

He'd had ONE truly beautiful experience... and ruined it. Pressing his lips into a thin white line, he started the car again and got moving. He needed to sleep.

He'd feel better when he'd slept.

-

-

Dean had dropped her off and insisted on following her to the door, ever the gentleman. Lisa was a bit tipsy and smiled generously at him as he waved goodbye. He never made any attempt to kiss her, and for that she was eternally grateful.

Turning the doorknob, she immediately sobered as she suddenly realized the door wasn't locked. She looked back at Dean, only to see his car disappear behind the curve of the road. Trembling, and with a pounding heart, she forced herself to carefully push the door open.

"Leese."

Lisa screamed right out as she saw a silhouette of a man in her dusky hallway.

"DAD!" She stumbled forward and was met by a worried face. "Jesusyouscaredme!" She fell into his arms and allowed herself to be little again, just for a moment.

"I've been calling and calling, Lisa. You know I would never take liberties... but with all that's been happening... and you didn't answer... and I was even here yesterday and you weren't at home, and I was beginning to think I should call the police..."

"Dad! Dad." She nestled out of his embrace. "I'm all right. I had an accident, but it's OK."

"An accident? What accident? Leese, why didn't you call me? What accident?" He held her on an arms length distance and looked her over.

She smiled tiredly and sat down, pulling the boots off her poor feet. Carefully removing the cotton that had stuck in her wounds, she massaged her aching calves and wiggled her toes.

"I dropped a glass, and being a complete idiot, I stepped in the shards." Her heart trembled as her mind re-played the moments from two nights earlier. "Then, when I tried to get out of the mess, I hurt my other foot as well..." She smiled up at him, disarmingly, trying hard not to make it sound too impossible.

Joe Reisert looked in shock at his only child. "My God, Lisa! We need to get you to a doctor!"

"I already went, dad. I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

"I can see that," he said and nodded towards her feet. Lisa shook her head at his concerns and got up, limping towards the kitchen.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Sit down, honey. Let ME take care of YOU instead. How's that for a change?"

She smiled weakly. _Sorry dad. There's only so much a dad can do for his daughter... Some things can't be mended... or taken care of._

But she let him make her some tea. And they had a lovely quiet afternoon, watching the sun set over the endless horizon, ending yet another day of this turbulent summer that taught Lisa to fear less of the things you can't control any way.

And that control is a relative thing.

-

-

Jackson had lied again. Since three months now he'd done nothing but lie to himself. Sleeping in yet another anonymous motel and checking in under yet another alias, he felt dirty and hollow. Life seemed to have lost its spark.

He'd dreamt about her once more. He only remembered wanting to save her from an upcoming disaster... and the distinct feeling of failure.

It was late afternoon when he woke, lying like glued to the sheets in the choking heat. The air condition must have broken while he was asleep. A brief thought of cutting the desk clerk's throat whirled through his feverish mind as he stumbled to the bathroom and cooled himself off with a shower until he was shivering instead.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he leaned forward and studied his face in the mirror. He had dark circles under his eyes, crevices instead of fine wrinkles, and he really needed to shave.

His cheeks still had goosebumps from the cold shower, and he cut himself as he shaved. Staring at the trickle of blood that spilled past his chin and dropped into the white porcelain, mixing with droplets of water in the basin, a deep and sincere grief suddenly struck him.

_Her feet were bleeding. I took care of her. I was good at it. _

_And I enjoyed it. _

_NO! Fuck it! NO! Fuck, fuck, fuck!_

Hurriedly finishing with the last rough patches of stubble, he slammed the razor back in his bag. He wasn't going to Washington. He was going to Miami, and he wasn't going to lie any more

_To Lisa, nor to myself._

-

-

Monday came and went. Lisa took a taxi to work and could perform pretty well, even though she couldn't run around the hotel in her usual manners. Just before lunch, she received a little pink dried crab's claw in a small white box with an attached note in the claw's grip.

**_Thanks for a lovely lunch./DT._**

_Aww._

It was small enough not to freak her out. It was cute and innocent, and still he showed her that he cared. If he had sent her flowers, or chocolate... then she would have fled in the other direction.

On Monday evening, she did answer her dad's call. Then she went to bed early, completely exhausted, dreaming worrisome dreams of faceless men trying to reach her. She remembered running. When she woke, she just knew something bad was going to happen.

Finally the relentless sun was shadowed by some clouds, and the weather forecast actually predicted rain and some breeze.

_Not a day too late._

The whole of Miami held its breath, seeking to cool off. Lisa went to work. Her feet hurt less, but she still preferred to sit most of the day. Dean called during the afternoon, asking if she wanted to see him the next day for a drink after work.

Lisa said yes.

Early that evening, the clouds gathered and the breeze turned into an increasingly uncomfortable wind. A few minutes before sunset, she was startled by a repetitive knocking sound from the back of her house. Muttering to herself, she got out and attached a window shield that hung loose. The strength of the wind increased as she struggled to get back inside.

"Some breeze, huh," she sighed. Weather these days seemed to be getting more and more extreme.

As the shadows grew longer, she sat on her couch with a fresh cup of tea, watching the eerie light on the horizon as the sun drew its last breaths behind the clouded sky. Lisa exhaled irritated between her teeth when she heard a knocking again.

_What is it now? This house really needs a makeover._

Opening the door to locate the sound, she stumbled backwards in shock, immediately struck by a severe pain in her chest as Jackson Rippner himself stood outside.

He cocked his head and lifted one corner of his mouth into a smile. His blue gaze was lit by the light coming from behind her, and his unruly dark hair partly covered his eyes as the breeze kept playing with it.

"Hello again, Leese."

-


	10. Disaster

**Author's note:** Well, thanks once again for all your lovely reviews:) Emptyvoices, you might like this chapter… and then perhaps you should stop reading. wink No, I'm kidding.

Most of you seemed happy that 'Jack's back'… well, things doesn't turn out the way he planned, though. And someone fights back. Personally I think that the outcome of this chapter is the only one… no matter how it feels, for her and for him…

Have a great read. Enjoy.

Love, Nic.

**Chapter 10 Disaster**

"What are-?" Lisa gasped and her hands flew up to cover her mouth. "NO!" She grabbed for the door to shut it again and shut him out, but was interrupted by a hand that took a firm grip on her arm. Jackson took a step forward as she staggered yet another step away from him. "Let me go," she yelled and tried to pull her arm back. A sudden wind slammed the door shut behind him, and they both jerked at the sound as they were plummeted into darkness in her narrow hallway.

"Nasty weather," he said, gazing at the door and then back at her again.

Lisa's heart was pounding wildly, and she swallowed repetitively to be able to form any syllables. It hurt to see him. He'd hurt her so unbelievably much and she was not ready to go through this again. His hand was cool against her skin and his touch made her soul writhe with despair.

_What's he doing here again? He changed his mind? Has he finally come to finish the job? That's it?_She suddenly realized he must have come to kill her this time and her mouth went dry with renewed fear. There was simply no way of telling what kind of game this man was playing, and she had no clue to how to predict him any more. Nevertheless, she would never yield without a fight.

Not Elisabeth Henrietta Reisert.

"YOU get out of my house," she hissed venomously and pushed hard at his chest with her free hand.

Jackson stumbled back but regained his balance. Shaking his head, he grabbed her other arm by the wrist and held them both, forcefully pulling her closer until their chests collided. "Always resorting to violence. You're such a dangerous woman, Lisa," he breathed into her face.

"Let GO of me!" She abruptly yanked her arms loose and turned on the spot. Throwing herself out of his way; she grabbed the cordless phone on the small table and rushed with Jackson on her heels to the bathroom where she slammed the door shut behind her, locking herself in. She jerked when the knob twisted and something heavy hit the door.

"What do you plan to do with that phone in there?" Jackson asked, unexpectedly calmly considering the situation, from outside the door.

"Get out of my house now, or I'll call the police!" she yelled.

"What?" he laughed. "That sissy that was here the other night and left without noticing shit?"

"No. I'll get the whole special forces here in no time!"

"So why haven't you?"

"I'm calling now." And she did. _91…_

She screamed as the door suddenly came crashing in. Dust and pieces of wood rained over her as she yelped and protected her head against the debris.

Jackson advanced on her and snickered as he twisted the phone out of her hands, slamming it against the wall, sending pieces of plastic and electronic parts flying. "Can't let you do that, sorry."

Lisa cowered away from him, she was afraid this time. There was nothing more he could want with her except for killing her.

She retreated until the back of her legs hit the tub. "Please, Jackson. Let me go. Just… get out of my house. You already got your revenge. You don't have to do this. You really don't." She was pleading for her life while she carefully searched the fragments of the door on the edge of the tub next to her, hoping to find some larger piece of wood to defend herself with. Frantically trying to find a way to survive, she sought to distract him. Her heart pounded harder as her fingers touched something small, but sharp, a shard of sorts. She closed her hand around it and moved a little to the side, glancing quickly at him to see if he had noticed.

Jackson cocked his head and sucked some air through his teeth. Regarding her, he then slowly shook his head. "It's not true. I haven't got everything I came for. It just doesn't seem right, does it? We didn't finish this properly..." He strode closer, like a predator approaching his prey, knowing the battle had already been won.

She swallowed hard with a dry mouth, her heart pounding. "Haven't you hurt me enough already?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

He smiled, and his blue eyes flashed. "Maybe it isn't all about hurt, Lisa," he answered, deceptively softly. "Not everything must hurt."

_Oh my god! He really IS here to kill me! _The hair at the back of her neck stood straight up.

She would have only one chance. Her hand clutched harder around the little object.

-

**- **

It was so good to see her.His gaze roamed her luscious hair that he had had his fingers entangled in that night, and her dark green eyes that had shone with excitement and the joy that HE had brought her.

Now she looked tired and afraid, here eyes were wide and her chest heaved. _Don't be so scared of me, Leese... _He didn't want her any harm, but at the same time he had already fallen into the old habit of taunting her, not even noticing it himself that the same patterns kept repeating themselves over and over.

When she'd opened the door, his heart had jolted from the sight. Then she had tried to run from him, shut him out, to call the police! He couldn't allow that of course. It was completely out of the question.

Slamming down the door to the bathroom with the weight of his body came by instinct. She WAS calling! He felt almost betrayed._ Come on, Lisa. We had something. Don't ruin this now... __  
_

When he stretched his hand to grab her, her arm struck out. He reacted fast, but not fast enough and he felt a sharp sting at the side of his neck.

-

-

He moved to grab her and she swung her arm, holding the shard like a knife. Aiming to stab him in the neck, she didn't even think about how she'd already done the exact same once before.

And failed.

"Ahhh!" With a look of surprise, his hand flew up to the tear in his skin where blood had begun to ooze. That's when Lisa bolted.

Only to run directly into his other arm that sneaked out to stop her. Whimpering with fear, she struggled in his grasp to get away. He kept holding one arm around her chest and the other hand still at his own neck, putting pressure on the wound. In almost silence, they fought each other; only occasional grunts and gasps were heard. Lisa kicked at his legs and hung heavy on his arm, but he kept holding her tightly to his chest until she managed to shove her elbow into his stomach. Jackson gasped and his hold loosened.

Lisa almost, almost got away. She grabbed the doorframe to tear herself away from him, but he got a hold of her shirt and shoved her with full force, chest first, into the wall next to the door. Pressing against her, he panted as he hissed in her ear. "What the FUCK's the matter with you? You could've killed me!"

"Let me GO!" she yelled.

"Not very likely," he growled between clenched teeth.

Lisa was about to burst. Hot tears burned on the inside of her eyelids, and still she refused to give in to her fear. Slamming her head back at his, she aimed to headbutt him but only managed to worsen her own situation as he grabbed her hair with his other hand and pressed her cheek hard up against the wall.

"Don't kill me, Jackson. Please don't kill me," she yelped into the wall. Her scalp burned and her chin hurt where it had hit the wall. He was strong, he was really strong, and it was unimaginable that she had fought him so successfully a month ago. Now her efforts seemed ridiculous as he held her in an unyielding steel grip.

"I wasn't going to," he rasped. "But now I don't fucking know. Stop fighting me. Fuck, you act like you've gone mad." He shook her once, and then carefully released her head. Glancing back at him, she saw him pull his bloodied hand through his hair in a gesture of pure despair.

"Calm down, Leese," he sighed. Their eyes met, hers wary, cautious, and his tired and confused. She could feel every enhanced breath he took as his chest was still tightly pressed against her back.

She shook her head and looked away. "Let me go." She was calm.

He did and took a step back.

_Why do we always fight?_

"What do you want with me? Why are you back? I… I thought you came back to kill me…" She inhaled sharply and then exhaled shakily. She hadn't turned yet, not knowing whether she'd ever be strong enough again to meet those eyes.

"Look at me, Lisa."

"No. I want you to leave. You've hurt me enough. It's enough now."

She jerked as she felt his hand on her shoulder. "I'm not here to hurt you, Leese," he said softly.

Lisa snorted as a single tear started to spill on her cheek. "That's all you know, Jackson."

-

-

THAT hurt!

_'That's all you know.'_

Hadn't he come to the same conclusion himself?

He was here. She was right in front of him, he was even touching her at this very moment, and still it felt like they were further apart than ever before. He wanted to shake her, to grab her, steal her away. The urge was so strong to simply force her to come with him that he had to will himself to take yet another step away instead. He was so used to making people obey him that he barely knew anything else. But this time his skills were of no use. He couldn't force her, couldn't threaten her or kidnap her.

_Please, Leese. Turn around. Look at me._

But she didn't. Instead she pressed her forehead against the wall and said nothing.

They both looked up as the house suddenly shook from a particular violent wind.

_We're in Miami, and the wind keeps increasing by the minute. This is not good._

"Leese," he said. "I'm not trying to change the subject here, but there's going to be a storm. This place isn't safe; let's get out of here and back into town."

Finally she turned, and he was amazed by the green fire in her eyes. "No. YOU get out," she said through clenched teeth. "This is MY house and I'm not going anywhere! You're free to leave any second, though. As a matter of fact, I'm begging you to."

He recognized this. In a dream, on the plane, in her father's house, in bed... He'd seen that gaze before and it sent off a flare of both heat and a hint of insecurity inside him. It was like a sheer force of nature when the small woman in front of him set her mind on something. It was beauty in its purest form; like thunder, earthquakes or hurricanes.

Cocking his head, he smirked arrogantly, covering up the longing that erupted within.

_God, I want you! _

-

-

As she turned to look at him, her eyes darted to the fresh wound on the right side of his throat. His neck and a good part of his shirt was stained red and it was still bleeding. A little more to the middle and she would've hit the artery. The thought made her knees go weak. No matter how strange it sounded, she still didn't want to see him dead.

_But I don't want you HERE! You hurt me. _

Looking back up into his eyes once more, she could feel her whole being stretch towards him. _NO!_ She shifted her stance, grabbed a towel and handed it to him. "Here," she muttered. "You're bleeding."

He took the towel and pressed it to the wound. "I know. You cut me... again."

"Well suck it up," she retorted, throwing back his own words at him and turned to get out of the bathroom only to be interrupted by his hand that grabbed her arm.

"Lisa... stay." His annoying smirk had disappeared, and she didn't recognize the man in front of her anymore. She knew how to handle Jackson, but this wasn't him.

She shrugged him off and with it the eerie feeling of wanting that touch. "What do you want, Jackson?"

Shivering as his hand slid slowly down her arm, her heart began pounding louder as he stepped closer in the narrow space. "I want YOU, Lisa Reisert. I came back because I want you… and I want you to know that-"

Irritated, she turned towards him, annoyed that she felt anything other than loathing. "Well, you can't have me! You're pathetic. You aren't good at anything, are you? You failed with your stupid mission, you lost in a fight against a woman, you lost everything, everything when you... when you... And what makes you think...? Get out of here! Anddon'tcomebackIhateyou!"

_Please!_

-

-

_No, you don't! You can't._

Jackson opened his mouth to answer when a loud crash was heard, followed by the sound of glass breaking. The storms raging increased and both ducked, instinctively protecting their heads and stepping closer to each other.

Jackson looked at Lisa; she was afraid. Her eyes were huge and scared. He was rather concerned too; they should have left earlier, when they still had a chance. To get out now would be suicide.

"That was not good," he shouted through the noise.

She nodded mutely and then shook her head.

Lisa yelped when a new loud crash was heard, continued by a repetitive flapping noise. It sounded like a piece of the house had blown off. Jackson took her hand, for comfort, or to get her attention, or simply to take the chance. "Lisa, we need to get inside, or under, something heavy, something that won't blow away and that can take the hit if the roof comes down."

She looked at him with a confused and indecisive expression, valuable seconds ticked away. _Come ON, Leese. Snap out of it._ "Lisa!"

Suddenly she was all action. "My bed."

He frowned. "That'd be nice, obviously, but..."

"UNDER my bed. Now."

Hand in hand, they ran though the corridor, never looking at the inferno behind them. Paper flew around them and clearly some part of her house was missing since the roaring seemed to be even inside of it. They slammed the bedroom door shut and rolled in under the bed from the sides; Lisa from the left and Jackson from the right, meeting in the middle.

Lying under the bed, a heavy piece of oak, they embraced each other, trying to protect themselves from the deafening storm. Jackson lay half on top of Lisa, partly covering her body with his. The house shook, and crashes and thuds were heard as they lay there, close, each contemplating the possibility that they might not survive the night. Talking was impossible, only nature made its voice heard.

And she was angry.

-

-

He kept her safe.

It should be impossible, but Lisa felt safe in Jackson's arms. And he held her tightly pressed to his own body, never letting go. She felt his chest heave, felt his gasps and his fright. He was just as small in the face of nature as she and everybody else was. Somehow it made him more human. Jackson shook and Lisa screamed right out as the bedroom window broke and glass shattered all over the bedroom above them.

And he never let go.

She felt his breaths warm against her cheek and in the midst of the chaos it was a soothing rhythmic sensation. In spite of the obvious closeness they shared, they initially kept their distance, but as the minutes turned into hours, they finally rested; their bodies relaxing into each other as the storm gradually subsided during the early morning hours.

-

-

The light slowly came back into the world. She couldn't tell when it had happened, but suddenly she realized she could hear Jackson's raspy intakes of breath next to her.

And a bird somewhere.

_It's over! Thank God, it's over and we're alive!_

She carefully released her stiff body from Jackson's and began to crawl out from under the bed. Their eyes met as they stood. Lisa's filled with tears as she looked at the remains of her house. Managing her way through the debris, she surveyed her home.

She heard Jackson behind her. "Careful." But she had to see. All the windows were shattered and the storm winds had done their best to ruin her belongings. Her furniture had been tossed around. Shards of glass sat embedded in her sofa as well as in her bed. It had protected them well, though, the house was still standing, but that was about it. Everything, absolutely everything, was damaged one way or another.

She sank back against a wall, drained; a sob escaped her as she looked at everything she had built. Her home, her safe haven.

"Lisa," he said. "It'll be all right. It's just property. We're alive. You're alive. Could've been much worse." He laid a hand on her arm and she jolted, snapping out of her initial shock.

_Dad! He must think I'm dead! _

Looking for the phone, she realized it had been mutilated an was no more.

"Come on, Lisa. If we have any car left out there, I'll take you to town, and then we'll see what to do. All right?"

He let her go as she turned her tired tear rimmed eyes towards him. "There is no 'us', Jackson. I want you to leave." She had a voice so sharp it could cut through metal. "I'm grateful for the company during this night. I really am. It would have been a much more frightening experience alone, but I'll take it from here. I'm used to taking care of myself and, as proven over and over again, there's no one else I can trust but myself. And Dad. Good bye, forgive me for not walking you to the door."

-

-

Her stiff posture showed no signs of regret. She really did want him to leave. He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't. _We have chemistry, Lisa. You know it as well as I do! Don't do this._ But Jackson wasn't stupid. He knew when a battle had been lost, and the severity of almost losing their lives these last few hours weighed heavy, this was not a time to push the matter.

It hurt.

Tremendously.

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. Then he turned and left without looking back.

_Bye, Leese. We'll talk later._


	11. Lost And Found

**A/N: Sooo, about time I updated? Yes, obviously. :) Most voices I hear seem to want them to be together, that makes me happy, I have a certain goal with this story, and it's been very important to me that it comes across as possible that they'd fall for each other… **

**Emptyvoices, I knew you'd like chapter 10! And Memoi wants 'rough' affection! Makes me blush thinking about what that would be like… Kodu, I love that you noticed the details about the storm! Asia, still awesome to see you here. And the rest, THANKS! **

**Next chapter for you. Some sugar, some salt…. Enjoy. /Nic.**

**-**

**-**

**Chapter 11 Lost And Found**

She heard him leave. Frozen in the same position, she listened as his footsteps faded, crunching against the gravel, as a car door slammed shut and the sounds of an engine roaring to life and disappearing in the distance. With a tremor she sank back against the wall. As a mild breeze ruffled her hair, a loud raw sob escaped her throat involuntarily, and it turned into a long wail of pain as she continued her descent along the wall until she sat on the floor. Hugging her knees, she screamed out her sorrow.

The pain of losing him, losing her home, losing her life and the fragile balance she had built the last couple of years was too much to bear any longer.

Alone.

Always alone.

Each of her carefully placed pillars had been torn from her during the course of a few days, and now she swayed freely without support.

_DAD! Help! _

"LISA!"

As if directly answering her prayers, Joe Reisert appeared outside her beaten house, screaming with a hoarse voice for his only child, praying she'd be alive against all odds.

_Here…_ To weak to answer, she begged him to come and carry her away. Away from the pain, humiliation and all the losses. She wanted to be little again. She wished nothing of this had ever happened.

_I wish I had never met you._

"Dad," she croaked. Sobbing, she tried to get up from the floor. "Dad!"

"LISA! LISA, are you here? Where are you! Lisa, are you all right?"

She stumbled to her front door, stepping over piles of debris. "Dad!"

Joe rushed up the stairs as he saw her. He looked years older from a sleepless night of worry. "Oh, Lisa, honey. I thought I'd never see you again."

"I'm so sorry, dad," she sobbed as she let him embrace her in his safe arms. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

Her caressed her hair and looked her over, brushing some dirt off her shoulders. "Thank GOD you're all right! It's not your fault; no one knew, it hadn't been forecasted to be this bad. And I tried to reach you… but the phone…Are you all right, sweetheart?"

"No. Ehm… yes. Yes, I'm all right." _Physically, sure… Thanks to HIM._

"I've been up all night, thinking about you all alone in the house, not knowing if you'd survive…" His voice broke at the last words, revealing the horrors he'd been through during the long stormy night. "The police wouldn't let me out to the coast, the roads were blocked…"

"But I wasn't…" _Alone._ "…that afraid really. I'm all right." She caressed his arm and squeezed it reassuringly. "Take me home, dad. I'm so tired."

"Sure. Yes, come on. Come on, sweetie."

-

-

Lisa stayed in her old room in her father's house, the house she grew up in, for more than two months after the storm. The first days she slept, day and night, exhausted… drained… Emotionally as well as physically. For the second time in one month, she took a couple of days off from work. She, who hadn't had a day off since she started!

_Look at what you've done to me, Jackson!_

The rebuilding took forever; hers wasn't the only house that had taken damage, and it wasn't the worst damaged either. She was thankful she was still alive at least, not all had been that lucky. Miami was initially in a state of shock but, as always, recovering rather quickly. After all, tropical winds weren't that unusual by the coast.

She wondered where he had gone to.

He didn't show up again, and she almost felt betrayed, almost disappointed. _Ridiculous._ She had expected to have to fight him more, to struggle against his overwhelming power over her, to yet again match her will against his.

But he didn't come back.

_For the better_, she kept telling herself.

_Right._

-

-

Dean Turner showed up that first afternoon. He was standing at her father's doorstep, flowers in hand, talking quietly to her dad when she came down the stairs, covered in a soft old robe. His serious face was pale but collected. Lisa wasn't really in the mood, but she exchanged some polite words with him and accepted the flowers.

"I heard," he said softly. "How are you? I went down to your house and searched it to find you. I wanted so much to go and look for you during the night, but we worked…I wasn't able to get away… I'm so sorry for all you've had to go through."

Lisa heard only one thing. _You went INSIDE my house? Why are all the men in my life so obsessive?_

"I'm sorry I worried you, Dean. Dad came and got me. I'm fine really… just… just exhausted." She smiled weakly. "Guess I should've listened more carefully to the forecast."

He shook his head. "It wouldn't have helped. Everyone was taken by surprise… It was never a classified tornado, but it doesn't really help when people get their homes ruined and lose their lives, does it?" She nodded and then shook her head, agreeing with a grimace. He continued. "I'm going in now, to work an extra shift, we need every man and woman available. I brought you this." He gave her the flowers, a simple bouquet of daisies, yet again knowing not to overwhelm her with something that would've been too demanding. "Take care, Lisa. And get some rest. I'll call you later, if that's OK?"

She nodded, and they said good bye.

His concern and his compassion for his work and for the people who needed his help touched her heart. That was the kind of man any woman should have. _That I should fall for._

Lisa went back inside, put the flowers in a vase and went numbly upstairs. Trembling and nauseous, she curled up in a fetal position on her bed. Pulling the blanket over her head, she tried to shut it all out, but her thoughts kept circling around the same theme, relentlessly. She could still feel the warmth of his arms around her, the memory of how he'd held her during the long terrifying hours of the stormy night was forever imprinted in her body.

She didn't want them, but they refused to let go – the impossible feelings of completeness in his presence, and of something missing when he was gone.

-

-

Friday the same week, she was back at work. Judging from the reaction from her co-workers she had been missed. Cynthia even arranged a little welcome-back gathering in the afternoon, complete with flowers and a cake. It felt eternally good to dig into the every-day businesses of running a hotel. She loved her work and knew she was good at it. It satisfied her mind, kept her occupied and exhausted her to the limit of barely having any time left to think.

Barely.

Cynthia and Lisa began having lunch together more often. Lisa found she appreciated more the little things in life now than before. The rape had left her emotionally crippled and had taken two years of her life. The encounters with Jackson had confused and estranged her… But to have met Mother Nature on a bad day had seemed to bring some life back into Lisa's breath.

She hardly ever thought about it anymore, the rape. Somehow that wound in her soul had healed rapidly those hot days in July, and instead the scar it had left occasionally itched when something reminded her of him. _HIM. Jackson… _

But there was nothing.

Not a phone call, no surprise visits.

Just… nothing.

Lisa went through stages of cursing him, missing him, silently praying for him to return and demand her to come with him… anything but this emptiness.

-

-

Slowly, she accepted Dean's increasing presence in her life. At first he was hesitant and shy, eager not to rush her. Then, as she responded positive to his careful invitations for lunch and dinner, he became bolder. They went to a movie and actually held hands; he gave her a kiss on her father's doorstep after one night out.

Letting him in, really letting him inside wasn't that easy, though. No matter how hard she tried to tell herself that she wanted to let this intelligent, tender and caring man into her life on a more permanent base, her soul just didn't comply.

And how could she ever open her heart? How could she let anyone in when her mind was filled with such unmentionable things? He would never understand.

No one would.

Wednesdays had become her standard night out with Cynthia. Fridays she was having dinner at her father's. Once a week she had lunch with Dean, and more and more often she'd spend Saturday evening with him too. Having dinner, renting a movie, sitting at her place on the - new - red couch, watching the ocean, or by the fireplace at his flat in town, they'd talk.

Still he did most of the talking, and maybe that was part of it; that he didn't seem to notice that she didn't take as much part of their dating as he did. Dean was showing obvious affection, but Lisa couldn't help but wonder if he wasn't more in love with the thought of love than actually caring for HER.

And the lingering forbidden thoughts of another man measured him up and found him to be not enough. Not enough blue-eyed. Not enough thick-haired. Not enough clever, intelligent, smart-mouthed. Not enough of a challenge.

Not … him.

-

-

Summer turned into autumn and with it the relentless heat finally eased its grip on Miami. Tourists still came and went and Lisa was as busy as ever.

Sad news during late summer was that Charles Keefe resigned from his post and moved back to South California. Lisa got a letter where he once again thanked her and personally explained his reasons. There wasn't much to say about that really. She respected him as highly as always, and even more so for choosing his family before his career. Those kinds of people didn't grow on trees.

The repairs on her house were finished by mid September and she could finally move back in. Sure; living with her dad had been a much needed balm for her tormented soul the first few days, but as she slowly regained her strength, his concerns became more and more suffocating and she wanted her old life back.

Dean celebrated the occasion in the end of the month by cooking for her in her own, new kitchen. They had a nice evening, but Lisa kept seeing ghosts all night. The last person she had spent time with here was… _Jackson Rippner._

By midnight it was obvious that Dean wanted an invitation to stay, but Lisa was unable to give him what he wanted. Ever the gentleman, he kissed her goodnight and left.

Turning off the lights felt nerve-racking; what if he DID show up? _You're being silly, you think he would have waited out here for two months for your return and now decides to pay you a visit?_

Of course he didn't. Nothing happened. Lisa brushed her teeth and went to bed. The same old bed…

_LEAVE ME ALONE!_

_-_

_-_

_Falling in and out of sleep, dreaming worrisome dreams, she needed to use the bathroom in the early morning hours. After flushing the toilet, she studied her gloomy face in the mirror and bent over the basin to wash it. _

"_I know it. This is where you show up," she whispered to herself. Looking back up, she realized she wasn't alone. Behind her was a dark tall handsome man with devilish blue eyes, regarding her, licking his lower lip while he opened his mouth to speak. _

"_Leese."_

_Lisa began to tremble. She knew she didn't have to fear for her life. But she feared for her sanity. I'm a good girl. I went to church every Sunday until… until I lost faith two years ago… And HE is a criminal. _

"_I don't want you, Jackson."_

_She flinched when he touched her shoulder. "We both know that is a lie, Leese."_

"_I don't love you."_

"_Of course."_

"_Go away."_

"_You really want me to?"_

_She nodded and closed her eyes. When she opened them again he was gone. _

_NO! _

-

-

"NO!" She woke with a gasp. The feeling from his touch was still etched on her shoulder. She had an imprint of a hand there which made her jolt until she realized her hand was numb and that the red mark fit her own hand perfectly.

When she walked to the bathroom on shaky legs, she couldn't help but taking a quick look around her house first. _You're SO stupid…_ Of course it was empty.

Sunday morning found her restless and still tired. At ten a.m. her cell phone beeped, announcing a message. Lisa frowned and went to look. A 'MMS' had been received, a message with a picture. The only one she knew that would use that was Cynthia, but the picture made no sense.

It was Golden Gate, the bridge.

Just that. No attached message.

Lisa smiled a little and figured she'd ask Cynthia tomorrow what she meant by that. She could be a bit corny, Cynthia, but she was a loyal friend, and she could make Lisa laugh, something that wasn't as easy as it once had been.

But come morning, Cynthia denied having sent it. She bent her head over Lisa's cell phone and looked at the picture.

"Probably just the wrong number, Leese."

That thought hadn't occurred to Lisa. "Oh, yeah. Most likely."

That was September.

During the next couple of weeks, Dean kept his distance, hurt, embarrassed, unsure of what he wanted with Lisa and why she kept him away. Lisa realised she kind of missed him. She missed his concerns, and that he always made her feel safe, and the way he worshipped the ground she walked. Just… having him around, had become normal…

-

-

The next message came while Lisa and Dean were out for lunch. This time there was no doubt who it was from, and Lisa almost choked on her fajita as she saw what was on the picture. _A silky burgundy scarf._ She knew there ought to be blood stains somewhere on it, but the quality of the picture wasn't good enough to show that.

_Jackson!_

Her heart jolted with sudden joy and a hint of fright. _He hasn't forgotten about me!_ She blushed as Dean leaned over to look at what she was gazing at. Lisa snapped her cell shut and smiled.

"Dad wants me to come over later." The lie came easily.

And only as a third reaction did she get angry. _Stop trying to break me! I'm not letting you do this to me!_

Late October meant a little less tourists for a while. Dean was busy investigating a drug cartel that smuggled cocaine from Cuba. He worked all the time and they didn't see a lot of each other. He had once more become a regular visitor in her life, and he didn't pursue the matter of getting closer physically. He knew about her rape and accepted the explanation about her fear of intimacy.

It had been exactly one month since the first message.

-

-

In late November, she got yet another message.

'**_I'm sorry, Leese'_** it said.

_Are you? _An unexpected stab of pain hit her heart. _No, you're not. You meant to hurt me, didn't you? Didn't you?_

Lisa didn't know what to believe, her heart had long since forgotten about the hurt he'd put her through after they'd made love. Time heals all wounds and, if something, she remembered his eyes, his voice, his touch, and a deep feeling of belonging… But both his short presence in her life, and now his absence seemed more and more unreal. Did it ever really happen?

She had unwillingly come to expect a monthly message, though. It was like a game, and she looked forward to it just as much as it hurt her when she received it. Because it reminded her… and every time it made her afraid that there wouldn't be another.

After the message with the scarf, she had tried to find the address to the phone number. But of course it was a non-traceable number. And she couldn't really ask Dean to help her.

_Dammit, Jackson! You like to be in control, don't you? _

-

-

In December, she didn't get any message, and the worries grew everyday. What if something had happened? What if he… just didn't care anymore. Why SHE cared about it was a question yet to be answered…

Lisa celebrated Christmas with her mother in Texas. It was the first without her grandmother, and also her first flight to Texas since July… _'Well, here's to Henrietta, whose spirit is very much alive.' _They did toast to Henrietta, and all she could think about was a dark stranger at an airport… Somehow she was sure her grandmother would have liked him very much… Or at least the non-professional part.

The gentle part…

And no, she didn't get kidnapped on the flight. But she did glance at the bar where she had been drinking with Jackson before… before it all happened. And the seats 18 G and F were inhabited by an elderly couple who were asleep most of the flight.

Nothing exciting there.

-

-

She was so very close to call that number in January. Every time she used her cell phone, she fiddled with the buttons and looked at the number on the display, wondering what she'd say… or if he'd answer… Or if that number even belonged to him.

One Friday night in late January found Lisa and Cynthia attending a local jazz and blues club down town. They had both been drinking and exchanging confidences and now they were dancing. The lively Cynthia with her huge blue eyes and amazing red hair was flirting as always, and the more reserved Lisa stood alone and moved to the rhythms of the Cuban band up on stage.

When a pair of warm hands suddenly covered her eyes from behind, she giggled and grabbed them. "Cynthia, I know it's you."

She froze and inhaled sharply as she felt a stubble covered cheek against hers and a hot breath on her right ear, followed by a low well-known raspy voice. "Do you, now?"

Her heart stopped and time froze. _Jackson!_ "I thought I told you to stay away?" she finally breathed with her head spinning.

"You did. And I never told you I would…"

Lisa tried to turn around, but his hands quickly moved and grabbed her shoulders to keep her in place. When she had stopped her motion, they slowly slid lower. Goosebumps erupted along the path of his hands on her naked skin. With his arms around her, she barely found strength enough to remain standing, but the alcohol, the darkness in the club and the hypnotizing beat of the music co-worked to let her follow as he slowly moved to the rhythm of the drums, with the whole length of his body tightly pressed to hers. To onlookers they must have looked like lovers dancing to the music.

"How many Sea Breezes have you had?" his teasing voice rasped in her ear.

She didn't answer. _Too many._ She felt him smile against her cheek and couldn't help but revel in the warm sensation it created deep inside her.

"What are you doing here?" she finally breathed, trying to pull herself together.

He hesitated a moment before answering. "I was around…"

"In business…?" she asked with distaste.

This time he didn't answer.

"Why are you sending me messages?"

Lisa suddenly swayed forward as the warmth and support of his body abruptly disappeared. She staggered, regained her balance and twisted around to look for him. The club was crowded and he was nowhere to be seen.

What she did see was Dean, forcing his way through the crowd, desperately searching the room. He saw her right after the moment she'd seen him and pushed his way up to her. _What's HE doing here?_

"Leese," he panted, grabbing her arm. "I've been trying to reach you for an hour; your phone… doesn't work…"

Lisa released herself from his hold and reached for her phone at the same time as she looked around the room to see if she could spot the other man who had been there only a moment ago. "What is it, Dean?" A cold hand suddenly gripped her heart; if he went through all of this just to reach her…

As she looked down at the dead display of her phone, his words reached her like in a haze through the noise of the club.

"It's Joe. He's had a stroke."


	12. If You Love Somebody Set Them Free

**_A/N:_ **I'm putting Lisa through a lot of pain here. But I didn't plan it, honestly. If I wanted drama per se, I could've just introduced Jackson back sooner. Sometimes in writing a story thing just happens by themselves, like in real life not everything can be planned for. Joe's disease was such a thing. And I'm as sorry for Lisa as you all are.

Emptyvoices: Jackson did show up, but Lisa was under the influence of one or two Seabreezes to many and it was all very dream like and unreal to her.

BregoBeauty: Yep, cell phone are good for many things… such as stalking… And, sorry about Joe.

Albion: I don't consider myself a tease… But I can be mean with my cliffies…

J-bird: Thanks for the amazing review! One of the longest I've ever received! And I completely sympathize with your thoughts on going slow… Obviously. ;)

First Noelle: I'd be the first member of you start a support group. What do we call ourselves?

Secrets and I stalk you… Thanks a lot.

**_For the rest of you lurking readers_**. If you like my story, please let me know. An author's mind is a fragile place and a review can really make my day. If you didn't like it, well… let me know that too, but please also let me know why.

**-**

**Chapter 12 If You Love Somebody Set Them Free**

She sobered immediately. The fear clutched her heart and wrenched her soul as Dean hurriedly drove her through the night to the hospital. Street lights played across her pale face as she stared emptily in front of her. _No dad. No, dad, please. It can't be. Not yet, I still need you dad. I need your wisdom and your support. I love you so much!_

"He's alive, Lisa. They found him in lying on the carpet in the hallway… he'd called 911, but was unable to speak…"

_No more. No more._ Lisa moaned inwardly. Her father, Joe, the powerful, intelligent and compassionate man who was not only her parent, but also her idol and her own major supporter in everything she did.

At the hospital everything was calm and quiet. They were directed to a ward on sixth floor, a Medical ward, Stroke section… Lisa's teeth shattered as they reached her father's room.

"He might be sleeping, he's been slightly sedated, but it's all right to go inside." The nurse nodded towards Lisa.

Turning to Dean, she whispered, "I want to see him alone."

He nodded. "I'll be down by the couch at the entrance."

Lisa smiled weakly and pushed the door open.

A dim light lit the small table by the bed. The rest of the room was dusky. Under white covers lay a very pale Joe Reisert. He was still, his cheeks seemed hollow, and his eyes were closed. When the door shut with a faint whisper, he opened one eye and his drowsy gaze followed Lisa's hesitant steps towards the bed. She pulled a chair closer and sat down next to him, grabbing for his right hand. To her shock, she realized it felt limp.

Swallowing hard, she whispered, "Hi, dad."

Only the left side of his face moved as he tried to form a word. The right corner of his mouth hung and his right eye was almost closed. She shivered; it hurt tremendously to see him like this. It was even worse than she'd imagined in the car on the way here. Her eyes wandered around the closest part of the room; he was attached to a monitor that had several graphs in different colours, and he had an oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose.

"Can you speak at all?"

He made a small movement that was clearly a shake of the head. _No. _

Suddenly a frightful thought gripped her heart; "Dad. Did someone do this to you?" Hesitation, then a vague shake again. _No._ Lisa didn't realize until then that she had been holding her breath. Still she couldn't get a horrible feeling out of her mind. The flawless timing of _HIS_ reappearance and her dad's sudden disease…

As she sat there, holding his limp hand, stroking it and whispering that everything was going to be all right, she finally noticed that his left eye had closed and that his breaths were slow and even. Careful not to disturb him, she tiptoed out of the room and silently closed the door behind her.

_Oh dad._

On the way out, she got hold of the nurse; a young, efficient woman, short hair, no make up.

"Excuse me. What happened?"

"He's had a stroke, Ma'am. That means a part of his brain isn't functioning properly at the moment, and the medications we give him now and the rest he's getting will help to restore as much of his functions as possible."

"But… ahm… what caused it? Could it be a… a… trauma?"

"Oh. Yes, it could." Lisa's heart sank. "But the cat scan shows that Mr Reisert has had a thrombosis, meaning that some of his blood has clotted and prevents oxygen to reach all parts of his brain. So, in this case there's no trauma. Trauma always means bleeding."

Lisa began trembling from the relief and had to support herself against a wall.

The nurse looked worried. "I'll call the doctor; he can explain this a little more thoroughly. Sit down and get something to drink while you wait."

"No… no. That won't be necessary. I'm sure he's busy as it is at this time of night." She remembered vividly the long tiresome night at the ER half a year earlier. "I'm all right really, and what he can tell me doesn't change anything anyway, right?"

The other woman shook her head. "No… not really." Did she look a little relieved not having to call for the doctor? Lisa almost thought she did. Well, the friendly nurse deserved it.

"I'll be back tomorrow, but then I'd like to talk to his doctor."

"Of course."

Dean drove her home and she hugged him numbly goodbye before closing the door. This wasn't how it was supposed to be; her father had only recently retired and had been enjoying his free time so much. It wasn't fair that it would be taken away from him.

Sleep refused to come that night. Images from her dad and feelings of the greatest loss she'd ever experienced mixed confusingly with memories of a recent touch; a warm cheek against her own, a soft voice in her ear. A brief meeting almost forgotten, drowned in more urgent events.

-

-

Lisa spent the every hour she wasn't working or sleeping the next couple of weeks by her father's bed. He was slowly recuperating and after a couple of weeks he was up in a wheelchair and could start his training. Things were beginning to look better and Lisa was starting to relax a little; her father had good chances to regain enough of his bodily functions to be able to continue living in his house.

Two days after he had become ill, she had gotten a message on her cell phone. **_Sorry about Joe. Had nothing to do with it. Hope you know that._**

That was the January message.

-

-

It was very simple, really. Joe moved back home, and so did Lisa; he needed her, and she needed her dad. At the end of February, she was exhausted. She worked at the hotel more than her share and the rest of her waken hours, she helped her father. Lisa wanted so much for everything to return to normal, for Joe to get back on his feet again. She had lost weight and her eyes looked hollow, she had no time to herself, and still she refused to give in.

In late February, she received three pictures; it was a view of some kind, an ocean in a distance, and far to the left a piece of a bridge. _Golden Gate?_ Near the camera was a piece of a tree. The next picture showed the same background, but also more of what lay closer to the viewer, a piece of a white fence and some flowers. The last image had still the ocean but also an obvious garden that looked private and a wooden chair at a patio closest to the camera.

Lisa smiled as she looked at the pictures. She couldn't make out any meaning in them, but they were nice to look at and the distraction had been welcome. There was barely any time to send any thoughts to the sender. A day just didn't contain enough hours.

"Leese?" Joe's voice from the back of her house brought her out of her musings.

"I'm coming, dad!"

-

-

In the beginning of March, Lisa came home from work and the house seemed unnaturally quiet. "Dad?"

No answer. "DAD!"

Running from room to room with the breath caught in her throat, her worst fears came true when she found him lying on the carpet in the bathroom. There was blood everywhere and he had a nasty cut where his mouth and chin had hit the porcelain basin.

"DAD!" she shrieked and shook him. He didn't answer and crying, she checked for the pulse at his throat. Joe coughed once and inhaled a long irregular breath; then it was quiet again.

Crying freely, she rushed to the phone in the hallway and dialled 911. After she called Dean. He had been very supportive these last weeks, and she needed him desperately.

-

-

It was a lot worse this time.

He'd had a new stroke, damaging a much bigger part of his brain.

There was no internal bleeding. Lisa asked specifically.

Joe was in a coma and after a week they took him out of intensive care and to a regular ward. There was no talk of recovering and training. And there was no talk of when he could move back home. Even Lisa's mother came all the way from Texas, worried about the reports of the state of her former husband. Their divorce had not been pretty, but it hadn't ended with them being the worst of enemies either. Mary Jane Reisert stayed at Lisa's beach house, and Lisa stayed in town, closer to the hospital, in her father's house.

It hurt so much to come home to the empty house every night after long hours at work and then a couple of hours sitting by Joe's bed, holding his hand and talking to him about everything and anything.

Alone in the house she'd walk and touch the furniture, remembering her father in this chair or waving with his hands as his talked by that corner before he'd leave the room. He was always going somewhere, there were always plans and he was always so interested; architecture, reading, golf, scuba diving, music, driving his car, just walking and talking.

There wasn't anything left of that now. Lisa would have to accept that her father as she'd known him was gone. In her mind, she talked with him constantly, about work, about friends, about her joys and her fears… and about Jackson.

Sitting by the bed, when no one else was around, she'd finally tell her father everything that had happened – and how she'd felt about it. What Jackson had really done and how it had affected her in ways she'd been unable to predict.

It was like she wanted her father's blessing.

But Joe reacted to nothing.

In mid-March, a couple of days after her mother had left; Joe had another stroke, sending him even deeper into coma. Now he didn't even respond to her touch like he'd done before - he was like a living dead.

Lisa sat by his bed day and night. The doctors had left her with no hope of recovery. He'd remain like this, either for a very long time, or have another stroke which would lead to his death.

She snorted to herself at the irony of it all. Approximately nine months ago, she'd worked so hard to save her father's life… only to end up having him taken away from her like this, and now there was nothing she could do. Nothing her temper and fighting spirit could aim at to make things better.

Well, there was one thing… one thing she could do…

She raised her head from the bed and looked at the pale, thin shadow of her dad.

"You don't want this, do you?" A single tear started to fall along her cheek. "I know you wouldn't if you could choose. I've been praying so hard for you not to leave me, because I wasn't ready… I wasn't ready to let you go. I love you so much, and I don't want to see you suffer anymore." She kissed his hand and squeezed it. Then she continued to stroke his arm as she spoke close to his ear. "My life dad, it will be all right. I've learnt so much from you and I take that with me. I know you can hear me, that somewhere deep down in that coma you can hear what I'm telling you." She leaned over and kissed his forehead before she sat back. "Let go, dad," she whispered. "Let go. You don't need to stay because you think I want you to. I'll be all right. I love you. Let go… just walk on… and allow yourself to let go…" Lisa's voice broke. Her throat ached from withheld tears that wanted to start falling; from un-cried cries, from talking without really speaking, and her whole body ached from wanting to run but being forced to standing still.

She abruptly rose and caressed both his pale and slightly damp cheeks before she left.

It was a very early morning in the last days of March. The air was humid and a bit raw. Lisa was too tired, she was always too tired, and she was freezing. Walking the streets leading from the hospital, she decided to go home. To her real home and not the sacred place, the tomb her father's once so lively household had become.

She called for a cab and had it drop her off by the beach. She'd have quite a walk ahead of her, and it felt cathartic. The early morning sun had begun to cast its first pale rays on Lisa and it warmed her slightly. The ocean glittered, flirting as every morning, welcoming the sun back from its hiding. Soon, she removed her shoes and socks and began to run barefoot in the sand. She ran until she didn't have any breath left. Until her chest burned and her heart pounded like it would beat its way out of her chest.

For the first time since she couldn't remember when, she felt something akin to life.

The deep sorrow lay to close to the surface, though, and the light feeling only lasted a few seconds.

When she got back home, she had received a postcard. It must have arrived yesterday, or the day before yesterday. It was a close-up picture of a beautiful flower that grew on a cactus. _So this is his handwriting?_ The message said;

**_Sometimes true beauty only blossoms when facing resistance. With right nurturing, a miracle is created. I'm sincerely sorry about Joe. My thoughts are with you both. _**

Still no return address, or no signature… But of course she knew.

Next morning at work, she got an urgent call. Rushing to the hospital, she still got there too late.

Joe Reisert had peacefully passed away during the early morning.

_You always had a hard time with mornings, didn't you? _In spite of the grief, Lisa still felt a sense of relief. The earth had turned and life would never be the same, but at least he didn't suffer anymore, he wouldn't be yet another vegetable in a hospital bed, denied his freedom and independence.

Lisa laid her forehead against his cold; she scarcely recognized him any more. "I love you dad. I'll be seeing you. Thank you," she whispered.

That was March.

-

-

The funeral took place at the end of April. Lisa and Mary Jane had chosen a beautiful spot with a view over the Atlantic to spread his ashes. _Now you can still be on the move, like always… never standing still. You can be all around, and everywhere I go, there'll always be some molecule of you. Some little… wherever I go…_

There were speeches. And more speeches. Lisa held the first, in the church. Collected, but with a throat that ached and a voice that just barely managed the task;

"Dad. You were my light, my best friend, my support in life, and the very reason I am me. I cannot say rest in peace, I don't have it in me, because you LIVED in peace, and you were taken away far too early for there to be any justice.

You were there when I took my very first steps, then you taught me how to run, and jump, and how to reach the stars. You always believed in me. You taught me how to achieve whatever goal I set my eyes upon, no matter how silly it seemed at the time… and some of them WERE silly…"

Lisa smiled a little and looked up at the audience, met a few smiles from the people who'd known her and her father from way back and could relate to what she was talking about.

"Dad. You not only gave me the gift of life… you also saved my life..." The last words were said quieter. "And I love you," she added with a little more force.

She went quiet and swallowed hard, choking back the tears.

_Not just yet!_

"And DO rest in peace."

Lisa walked back down and settled herself next to her mother whose tears were falling freely. The rest of the ceremony went by in a blur, people were showing their condolences and Lisa nodded and talked, but without knowing what she was saying.

She cried helplessly, leaning against Dean's solid shoulder, as the priest said the final words:

"Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust…"

And before she knew it, her father was buried.

Gone.

-

-

"Are you moving with me to Texas now?" her mother inquired. The reception at her father's house was finished and Lisa and Mary Jane were cleaning up; putting dishes in the dishwasher, collecting all the flowers on the kitchen bench, turning off he lights and stuffing the remains of the food in the refrigerator. Lisa's mind was numb and her limbs felt heavy. Slowly, she reacted to what her mother was saying.

"Ehm, no, mom. I have my life here."

"You should do something new. Travel a little… I heard they'll have a post that should fit you perfectly at the Lux Pacific when it opens in June. It's in San Fran-"

"Mom!"

"OK, OK. Just thinking…"

"Don't, mom. I'll be all right."

"I'm only thinking a little change would do you good…"

-


	13. Finding Jackson Rippner

**Author's Note:** I had an amazing response to my last chapter. Maybe it was a bit emotional… But there was no appearance by Jackson so I thought that 'what the heck' perhaps this story is better off without him… Nah, I'm joking. Of course there will be Jackson, that's what we're all waiting for… isn't it?

As for my descriptions of hospitals, illnesses and deaths… I'm a doctor. It helps… I've seen a lot of stuff, believe me.

Emptyvoices… like someone else said; I'm so happy you seem to adapt and slowly change your mind…

A few of you have figured out a connection between the little hints… I might have to kill you for that, but everything will soon be revealed anyway, so I might spare you. :D

You all mourn Joe, and so do I. I had no intention originally to kill him… it just happened, like it can in life, just unexpected…

And finally I think it is official, we have formed **WHAK **– Women wHo Adore Killers (IN FICTION that is!) Verb; to be a bit whaky… Can some villain be whakatakataka? (How you feel when you first see him?) LOL

Take care everybody, have a good read, and next chapter is the last chapter… Just so you are warned.

/Nicolina N.

**-**

**-**

**Chapter 13 Finding Jackson Rippner**

The last day in April was a sunny Wednesday and Lisa received a book in her mail. When she removed the brown paper it was packed in, she found a small book about gardening.

_Eh…I don't have a garden…_

The cover was a picture of a cute corner of a garden, complete with flowers and a blue painted old chair under a large tree. On the back it said it was a beginner's guide to gardening. Lisa flipped the book back and forth and mentally scratched her head. She hadn't ordered anything…

_Oh, OK._ She laughed silently. Inside the cover was written in a handwriting she now recognized:

**_For Lisa. For peace in mind._**

_Jackson. _

_But where are you? Why don't you come back? Or… you did but Dean… _

-

-

May turned out to be a quiet month. The Lux Atlantic was mainly filled with business customers and they knew what they wanted and wasn't as random and unpredictable as vacation ditto.

Dean had been very supportive through the ordeal with her father being sick. He'd stayed by her side through his death, the funeral and the deadening silence afterwards, and slowly a trust had formed between them. It was a new kind of bond, a safe haven.

He was a regular guest at Lisa's, and her mother had found him very likable when they'd met. If she called Lisa, it even happened that she and Dean would talk for quite a while before Lisa understood that the call had been intended for her. Not that she minded that; she found her mother's suffocating care too much to bear from time to time, and since Joe's death she'd been like a leech.

And then, one late evening towards the end of May, it just happened.

It started with a slow kiss, and a soft caress along a neckline that smelled so good and felt so soft to touch. The day-old stubble at his cheeks scratched her pleasantly as he kissed his way down her chest, opening one button at a time of her dress until she stood bared in front of him.

He ignored the scar. Seemed almost afraid to acknowledge it.

But it didn't matter.

Not anymore.

The memory of a man who had worshipped it, and every single little square inch of pale skin all over her body, was so distant, so vague. Much water had passed under the bridges since, and this was new times.

And Lisa deserved some peace. Some happiness. Some warmth.

_And YOU are not here._

And she didn't think of him that much anymore.

Really.

The lovemaking was soft and tender. Almost too tender, as if he was afraid that she would break if he grabbed her too hard.

_I'm not that fragile, Dean. _

But she was so damn grateful that it felt good and that she had the potentiality of a life again, that she didn't pursue the matter.

The stars didn't come falling from the sky. The ocean was still there when she woke. And Lisa didn't feel that different. She cared for Dean. A lot. Maybe it could even develop into something more… if she tried hard enough she could almost feel… love… of sorts.

In the early morning, she peeled off a satisfied Dean that slept hugging her, almost with a content look on his face even in his sleep. She couldn't help feeling a little worried. She didn't want to hurt him.

_Why would you hurt him, Leese? _

She silently entered her porch and, of course, memories from another time, in the same place crept upon her. How they'd made love in the early hours, in the intense heat. How he had made her feel… all woman… all his… all sated.

_But then you hurt me. And you'll always hurt me. That is what you do. That is your business…_

She jerked as she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Dean, a sleepy, smiling Dean. She let him lead her back to bed, and then they made love a second time, and a new era began. This was where she belonged.

With him.

With love.

Safe.

_Mrs. Lisa Turner… _

_Mrs. Lisa Rippner… _

_STOP, stop, STOP!_

_-_

_-_

At the blessed end of May, blessed because of the time she'd put between herself and her father's death, she got the usual half-expected, half-dreaded delivery; a MMS on her cell phone. Lisa stiffened. She didn't want anything to disturb the fragile balance she had created with Dean now. She even played with the thought of erasing it without watching it.

But no, the familiar itch in her chest led the tip of her thumb to press the 'open message'-button before she even knew what was happening.

It was a picture of a street sign. **_Seabreeze Drive_** it said. _You have GOTTA be kidding me! And you do have a sick sense of humour, thank you!_

She decided to forget about it. She didn't want any more messages, any more reminders… She knew what she wanted now, and that was to be with Dean… and… and…

_Damn._

-

-

Lisa's life - with Dean, at the hotel, in Miami - came to a screeching halt in mid-June as everything she had built began to collapse.

It was getting hot again.

Really hot.

And the heat awoke memories…

Tourists from all over the world were swarming every single square foot of the city as well as the beaches, and Lisa almost drowned in demands.

The Lux Atlantic demanded that she took care of everyone and everything; tasks that she'd used to manage without even a frown. Her mother demanded that she did something about her life - and she didn't stop calling. Her friends demanded her presence in their lives, demanded that she spoke to them about how she was doing, that she opened her heart.

Lisa could never open her heart. Had it been a closed place before, it was now a Fort Knox with its vaults filled with tucked away emotions and events, forbidden thoughts and feelings.

Dean demanded that she took the next 'natural' step in their relation; he had on more than one occasion, two to be precise, asked her to marry him, and it almost suffocated Lisa. Sure, she wasn't ungrateful, he had been there for her during the hardest of times, and he had taken care of her shattered heart after her father's death, but she just wasn't sure...

Not sure enough, anyway.

One early afternoon in her office she felt the walls beginning to cave in. She started to sweat and freeze at the same time and stared at the phone that kept ringing, unable to answer. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest and she couldn't breathe. Clutching for her constricted throat, she rose so fast that the chair tipped over, rushed through the room and leaned out the half open window and inhaled. The air outside stood still and was like a warm, wet towel, but still she managed to calm down a little.

_What was that? _Lisa was beginning to tremble in the aftermath of the sudden fright she had experienced. _I felt like I was going to die! Oh my God! I need to get out of here! _

She ignored the phone and slowly walked out of her office, past the front desk, out through the swinging doors of the luxurious hotel and continued down the street. Thoughts of carpenters, plumbers, desk clerks and the air condition in suite 2037, flew by her mind, but she shut it off and continued to walk, flipping off the cell phone as she crossed the street.

Two blocks further down the street, on a safe distance, she entered a small bar_. 'Ahm, I'm feeling Vodka. Definitely sweetened...'_

She remembered a smile. And a thrill...

"Can I have a Seabreeze please?"

"Sure." The bartender smiled and went to work. There weren't a lot of customers at a local corner bar in mid-town at half past one, and Lisa sank down in a booth all by herself. The drink arrived and she took a long first sip.

_'The name's Jackson by the way.'_

If someone would have asked her at this very moment what she wanted with her life, she wouldn't have had a clue. The sadness inside threatened to consume her; she had suppressed it for so long that the ache in her heart had become like one with her soul.

_Is this my life? Is this how it's supposed to be?_

Up until a year ago, she'd had it all figured out; her career, meeting someone one day and form a family... She had never gotten around to meet with that special somebody, though. It's difficult when you never let anyone close enough.

_''What turned you into such a loner, Leese? Did someone break your heart...'_

_No, not you. _

_Leese, you're such a liar!_

_Yes. You. _

Then, out of the blue, a very special someone had forced himself into her life.

Unwanted.

Drowning her in the depths of her own soul with their meeting.

Lisa finished her drink faster than healthy and turned her phone back on. Ignoring the messages flashing, she called in sick and stepped out into the blazing sun as she flipped it shut and off once more. She flinched as she thought she saw a lean man in a dark suit standing on the opposite side of the street, but when she looked harder, it was just some man.

Any man.

Not that man.

Letting the endless shimmering streets swallow her, she walked off in the direction of the sun, enjoying the anonymity and the unique feeling of being untouchable, unreachable.

If only for one afternoon.

-

-

Dean just never stopped asking.

_'Why?'_

Why did she stop seeing him? Why wasn't he good enough? Was there someone else? It became more and more obvious that she would never have been able to meet with his expectations; he seemed to think that he owned her, that she was meant for him, and him alone.

He came to her house several times late at night and wanted to talk. Lisa never let him in after the first time when he'd made a scene, accusing her of playing with his feelings and using him.

"Lisa! Look at me!"

"Dean, I think you need to leave now, OK?"

She jerked when he grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "I do not accept this! You've... We've... You've made me think... Who is he!" he spat at last, his low self esteem finally shining through. It had always been lurking under the surface and Lisa had felt it but hadn't been able to pin point it before.

"There isn't anybody, Dean. Why does it have to be somebody else? What- "

He snatched her bag from the small table in the hallway and started digging through it. Lisa gaped and tried to get it back, but he turned his back on her and kept her away as he grabbed the phone out of her bag.

"What are-"

"All those messages on your cell phone! Who are they from?" He turned to her and shook her phone in the air. "Who is he? And don't you for one second believe that I didn't notice, I've always felt that you were somewhere else when we..." His voice broke, and in spite of the anger, and hint of fear she experienced, Lisa also felt genuinely sorry for him. He wasn't a hopeless case as a man, he had simply never been the one for her... and she HAD known it all the time to be honest.

Her lips went numb as he attempted to turn on her phone, and she sighed inwardly with relief as he had to give up at her PIN code. He dropped the phone in her bag and threw it on the floor with a disgusted twitch on his lips.

"I'm so sorry, Dean..." She took a hesitant step towards him, but stopped when his clouded dark eyes met hers. "It's not you... I'm... I'm not who you think I am. I'm not the one for you. We wouldn't be happy ever after... I'm damaged, Dean. Inside." She inhaled deeply before she continued. "I'm not the one I seem to be on the outside..." her voice trailed off as she looked at him and found no signs of sympathy or understanding.

"That's just such a load of bullshit, Lisa! Don't underestimate me, it's fucking insulting. Don't hand me the 'you're too good for me, let's just be friends'-speech. I've heard it one too many times now. I thought you were different."

_You thought right... I am..._

"Maybe you should just leave... this isn't doing either of us any good. We can talk later-"

"Fuck it!" he spat and stormed out.

Lisa winced and listened to the screeching sounds of the tyres as he sped away from her little house. There had been so much drama lately; too many hasty departures and arrivals... too many unexpected visitors.

_I'm so tired._

Drained, she numbly closed the door behind him and staggered to the porch at the back. It was dark, and she couldn't see the mighty ocean, but the sounds from the waves relentlessly rolling in, served to calm her nerves.

_I need to get away._

Silently, she listed the pros and cons with staying in Miami and found that the pros with leaving, at least for a while, greatly outnumbered the cons. _Mom was right... for once... __I need to see something else, get different perspectives... _

As the hours of the night slowly passed by, Lisa began to plan her departure. Her father was dead. She had no more family in Miami. She had a couple of friends... but the sad memories of certain things outweighed that... The parking lot where the rape had happened was a place she passed almost every day... not that she ever shopped at that store anymore, though. Her job reminded her of the Keefes and the terror on the flight... and everything reminded her of her father - and it only hurt. Her work... she had used to love it, but she knew she hadn't been doing a great job lately, and that the Lux Atlantic actually would manage without her... Unconsciously she had even been training her successor for the last half year... Cynthia would be a great manager; she had matured into a role of more responsibilities and had grown a mile as a person after the events last summer.

_But where to?_ An image of Golden Gate flashed by her memory. _I won't go to Texas... Mom'd drive me insane within a week..._ An image of a garden with an ocean view..._ I want to live by the sea... Upper east coast? West coast? _

_Seabreeze Drive. _

_Jackson..._

In the hot moist air of the early morning, as the sun began to rise, she suddenly remembered a time when she had felt more alive than ever... Her rage at him for intruding in her life, for trying to kill people she loved... her sudden strength... All the emotions; wild and frightening, pain, sorrow... And then... the love... and the hurt, and an unexpected feeling of freedom. He had freed her from her own chains...

Lisa had never thought of it that way before, but somehow she knew that HE knew that. That he'd seen right through her, seen her potential. _Not at first, obviously, since I beat you... but after..._ She grinned, remembering how she'd kicked his ass that day.

The memories of Jackson left a lingering smile on her lips, and her features looked lighter than it had for months.

-

-

They didn't want to accept her leave. The Lux Atlantic needed her, just as much as always... But Lisa had made up her mind and convinced the management that she really didn't do the job justice anymore and explained that it was the right time for Cynthia to step in.

Finally they did let her go. She managed a few weeks off due to massive overtime and a couple of weeks of vacation, but then she'd be on her own. She had left her father's house with a reliable real estate agent that actually had been one of Joe Reisert's many friends. Of course it hurt to sell her own home, but it was too big for her anyway. Her little beach house was hot on the rental market and she'd even make an unexpected profit out of it until she decided what to do.

She had burnt all her bridges now. The world as she knew it would cease to exist, and she had no clue to what she was doing.

The last day in June, she virtually held her breath the whole day. _Where are you?_ She went to sleep at eleven p.m. with a heavy heart and had slept for perhaps ten minutes when a beep woke her. Drowsy, she rushed to her cell phone and opened the message.

_A picture._

The exterior of a house, and if she looked carefully, she could read the numbers **11** next to the door. It was a white wooden house with a blue door and blue window frames. Next to it, on each side, were houses that looked more or less the same except for individual differences in colour, door types and mailboxes.

_Is this where you are?_

Lisa didn't realize how hard she'd been squeezing the phone until it slipped out of her sweaty hand like a wet soap. Collecting it from the floor, she went back to bed on shaky legs and pulled up the blanket, placing the phone next to her on the side table.

_-_

_-_

_11 Seabreeze Drive, San Francisco... with a view... That's where you are?_

_'Heard they're looking for staff to the Lux Pacific for the opening this summer...' _Sometimes her mother wasn't that bad.

_Lux Pacific._

_Thick dark hair to curl fingers in._

_Seabreeze Drive._

_Blue eyes. _

_San Francisco._

_Taunting. _

_Haunting. _

_A touch._

_I need to sleep…_


	14. A Man And A Woman

**Author's note:** It's with a heavy heart that I leave Lisa and Jackson. And you! All my readers! I've tweaked and tweaked this last chapter. I wanted it to be as perfect as I could possibly make it. And I needed to bring Jackson's voice back in – and I needed to try to get him in-character… Well, at least the version of Jackson I've presented. If you believe in an evil Jackson, then he's been severely OOC throughout both these fics. :D

This ends the way I intended it to. The story has deviated here and there, things happened that surprised me through the journey, but they were meant to end up here, where this ends.

I hate to leave them… but I have to, I leave their fates in your hands now.

Have a good read, and take care you all. / Hugs, Nic.

-

**Chapter 14 A Man And A Woman**

The equation was impossible.

Miss Lisa Reisert, daughter of Joe and Mary Jane, hotel manager, and in general well-bread, law-abiding citizen, couldn't possibly move across the country to look for her once would-be-murderer that as far as she knew worked as a professional terrorist manager.

Unless she did it to seek revenge...

Which she didn't.

So she didn't move to San Francisco.

She just went there to discuss the terms of a possible role as the manager's assistant at the Lux Pacific. It was at the end of July. The heat seemed a lot more humane here than back in Miami, and Lisa found that she liked the mood of the town. It was less rigid and more... well, like San Francisco. People appeared more relaxed, more at ease. Even the ever present lot of tourists were friendlier.

Lisa stayed at a small hotel with only a few rooms, about twenty minutes by bus from down town. She had been doing a lot of walking, and found that she was completely charmed by the people, the houses, the streets, the hills and valleys and by the over all good atmosphere.

And all the time her mind kept stretching towards a certain address.

She was somehow walking in circles, avoiding getting too close, but still unable to move too far away either. The picture in her head was so vivid; that blue door... number eleven... the view - she was sure the pictures with a view must be from the back of the house... Crystalline blue eyes framed with unruly dark hair... that raspy smooth voice with a hint of tease...

_What do you want?_

Sunday the twenty-seventh of July, around five-thirty in the afternoon, exactly four days after her arrival in San Francisco, found Lisa standing outside a small wooden house with a newly painted white front, and a heavy blue wooden door that was in desperate need of a paint job.

Next to the door it said '11'.

Her mouth was dry like desert sand, and her heart pounded so hard in her chest that its beats reverberated throughout her whole body.

_No, I can't._

Courage failed her, and she started walking again, but was abruptly interrupted as a lean man in jeans and a white T-shirt came out from the narrow passage between the houses. He was whistling but stopped flat as he saw her. Lisa's cheeks turned burning hot and she was unable to draw her next breath.

Jackson Rippner and Lisa Reisert stared at each other for an infinite moment.

She knew she must've looked afraid.

Because she was.

He looked truly surprised.

But not afraid.

No matter how much she'd had their meeting figured out, she hadn't been able to actually picturing meeting him... ever again.

And here he was.

And here SHE was.

-

-

_Jesus-fucking-Christ!_

_Leese._

It was like a twitch. No matter how amazed he was by seeing her, he couldn't help checking to see if there was anything unusual going on in the neighbourhood. If she had betrayed him… Jackson glanced quickly up and down the street before he looked at her again. While licking his lower lip with the tip of his tongue, a hint of a delighted smile grazed his features. "What brings me the honour?"

"Surprised to see me?" She played cool. He knew she wasn't.

"Very."

"Seabreeze Drive!"

He laughed. "Fitting, ain't it?"

"Very."

"Feet OK?"

At first she didn't seem to get it, but then realisation dawned on her. "Yes, they are, thank you," she snapped.

His smile lingered as he stretched up his arms and clasped his hands behind his neck in a completely relaxed posture. "So... where's the cavalry? The Big Bad Cop? The special forces?" _Did you get rid of Baldy?_

She snorted and leaned casually against the fence next to her, clearly forcing herself to appear equally calm. "Don't you think I can manage you on my own?"

Amused, he lowered his arms and stepped forward. Leaning against the fence from the other side, somewhat invading her territory, he said in a lower voice, his blue eyes boring into hers, "No."

Lisa wanted so much to take a step back, her whole body spoke of it, but then she'd loose the battle of wills. The pissing contest... She swallowed hard once and shook some hair away from her face. "I'm thirsty. Got anything to offer a lady?"

"Sure. If I find one some day," he answered quickly.

Lisa's cheeks turned red. "Oh, you bastard!"

Jackson laughed out loud. "Well, you handed it out on a silver plate, darling."

-

-

Her heart jumped at the word 'darling' and at the hearty laugh.

"So..." He nodded and began walking towards the door. "What'll you have?"

She followed him but stopped flat when he opened the front door. "Ahm... can we stay outside?" She'd feel safer not entering the house. She wasn't sure why she felt like she needed to take precautions... if she was unsure about him, then maybe she should've stayed away?

Jackson didn't blink. He closed the door and changed direction, nodding for her to come along. "So... what can I offer the LADY?"

Lisa glanced at the items in the passage; a black mountain bike, a pair of rubber boots, a shovel, a bucket full of various painting items... Everything seemed so ordinary, and so far away from whatever she would have connected with the Jackson she'd known.

Lisa stiffened and the breath caught in her throat as he laid a hand on her lower back. "Leese?"

"Ahm... a truck load of Seabreezes would be fine!" she answered quickly.

Jackson laughed again, and that was the sound she had ringing in her ears as the garden opened up in front of her with a breathtaking view of the bay, the city, the Golden Gate and... THE OCEAN!

"It's beautiful, Jackson," she breathed.

"It is, isn't it?" He smiled, standing with one foot on the step to the rear entrance and holding one hand on the door knob.

"Is this yours?"

Jackson raised his eyebrows. "The house? Yes, it is."

"But? Since... when?" She frowned slightly and looked up at the windows on the second floor, one was half open, and a white curtain moved slightly in the mild breeze. She traced the outline of the house with her gaze, then she looked back at him.

"Since last August," he replied calmly.

_After the last time we met..._

"Why? I wouldn't have figured you to be the domestic kind."

He gave out a short laugh. "Ahm… well, I wanted to buy you a castle, but I gathered you'd feel uncomfortable about that, so I found this..." His eyes glittered with warmth and a hint of tease. "And I thought it was perfect."

Lisa's head was spinning. "What... what are you saying?"

"Did you want that drink?" Smoothly as ever, he changed the subject, giving them both a little, much needed, breathing space.

She slowly stumbled backwards and sat down on one of the wooden chairs at the patio, nodding. "Make it big."

Jackson grinned and the house swallowed him.

Lisa pulled up her knees and hugged her legs. Nothing with this meeting so far had served to calm her inner turmoil; instead it worried her more and more. _What have I done, coming here? What if this is a mistake? _She really didn't know this man; a dream about someone that had once stolen her heart had turned her whole life upside down and sent her across the country in search of... _WHAT?_

She was on the verge of leaving when Jackson came back out with a bottle of beer in one hand and a large glass of orange-pink Seabreeze in the other, complete with rattling ice cubes and a straw. He handed the glass to Lisa who almost dropped it.

"Careful!" he grabbed hold of her arm to steady her and her heart stopped. _GOD I've missed your touch! _

-

-

With a slight tremble, he let go, and Lisa lifted the glass to her cheeks to cool them off, first on one side and then the other. He hid a smile. She seemed flustered, bothered. Good, it wasn't only him then…

"What do you want, Jackson?" she asked, looking down at her hands.

_Look at me, Leese, I won't bite._

"I already told you." _You._

Lisa frowned and turned her head towards him, nailing him with her gaze. "Stop playing these games! Any more of those and I'll leave!"

"Think I'd let you?" he replied coolly. _Not now. Not when you've come to me freely. I'm never letting you out of my sight again._

A look of fright passed her features. "I'd scream my lungs out if you'd lift a hand on me again!" she snapped.

The corner of his mouth twisted into a half smile. _As feisty as always…_ "Relax, Leese. I'm not out to hurt you. I could've done that a million times over by now if I'd wanted."

She exhaled slowly, shakily, and looked down at her feet again. "What is it you want then? What's with all these messages? You just simply couldn't leave me alone, could you!"

"No, I couldn't." He shook his head and continued to study her. _Lisa Reisert._ She had a simple white blouse and wide linen pants. Her hair hung loose and was longer than a few months back when he'd seen her the last time. The surveillance pictures hadn't done her justice.

Not at all.

She looked absolutely beautiful.

And she was sitting in his chair.

"Why didn't you just come back then? To Miami?" She still refused to meet his gaze.

He snorted. "You'd just have shown me the door again in your ever so sweet manner."

Lisa bit her lower lip, silently acknowledging that statement.

"Soo... I wanted you to come to me," he continued.

"And I did," she concluded and looked up at him.

"Yes, you did." He smiled and drank some of his beer, his eyes never leaving hers.

Lisa took a long sip on her drink and glanced out at the view. Everything was quiet. It was still warm, but the air had begun to cool off. "It's beautiful." She looked at the surroundings. "But there can't be any sunrises here..."

"Actually there's both." Suddenly he felt eager to show her. "The sun rises over there-" He pointed at the skyline of the city that was visible through a thin hallucinatory haze. "- and it sets over there." His arm showed the direction of where the mountains met the sea.

"You've found a good spot," she said, finally relaxing some.

Jackson answered with a smile and cocked his head, glancing at her.

_You came._

-

-

As the hours went by, they both got a little inebriated from the drinks, followed by a bottle of red wine, and then a second bottle that remained almost full.

Lisa had begun to get cold, and Jackson had wrapped a thick chequered blanket around her body. His touch made her want to lean her head against his chest. But she didn't dare to... give in.

It was dark, and still. The bright lights from down town San Francisco appeared as vague glittering stars to the left in the background before the pitch black ocean swallowed all light more to the right. In the darkness right in front of them, the unmistakable silhouette of lights from the bride stood out as a beautiful monument.

Somewhere in a distance music was playing; the sound reached them randomly. The crickets nearby chirped almost constantly. Jackson had lit a fire in an iron casket, and the flames were entrancing them both in the dusky night.

"I don't know you," she said slowly, staring at the fire in front of her, sitting relaxed in her chair. Jackson was slouching equally calmly next to her.

"Makes us two, Leese. I don't know myself anymore either. I thought I had it all figured out, but then... this little fiery red-head hotel manager comes along and crushes everything I know... Crushes ME!" He snorted. "I had a lot of time to think in that hospital... and still I came to the completely wrong conclusion. I thought I'd get back to my old life as soon as I had gotten back at you." He gave her a quick sideways glance. "I was wrong..."

Her lips twisted in a sad smile. "You hurt me."

"I'm good at that." He stirred uncomfortably.

She nodded with a lump in her throat.

"And for that I'm sorry," he continued when she didn't say anything.

Lisa tightened her jaw not to give in to the tears that wanted to well up. "Are you going to hurt me again?"

"I don't plan to... no."

"What kind of an answer is that?" she snapped as she turned her head and looked irritated at him.

"An honest."

"What do you want, Jackson?"

"What do YOU want, Lisa?"

She shook her head and gave out a short laugh. "How much time do we have?"

"Enough."

Her smile turned sad. "I also thought I had it all figured out…" She went quiet and had to start over. "I think I want impossible things. And I don't think it'd work between us. We're too different."

"We're a lot more alike than you want to admit, Leese."

"Perhaps... but I don't kill people for a living, Jack." A sudden venom in her voice.

"I'll give you that."

"So… still in the assassination business?" she asked lightly, though the tremble in her voice betrayed her.

He regarded her for a moment. "What do you want to hear?"

"I don't know… the truth? Or… what I can handle to hear…?"

"Would you believe me if I said no?"

"No."

He nodded with a grimace and looked at the horizon.

-

-

Lisa flinched slightly when the tips of his fingers softly touched her cheek. Then she leaned her head towards him and relaxed into the most welcome sensation of his warm hand as it caressed her cool skin.

He hesitated a little, waiting for her response. Then he continued to follow her jaw line, past her chin, and down along her neck, creating goosebumps along the path.

Her whole body went stiff in an ache that wanted to be healed; that wanted to seek salvation in his touch, to sink into the oblivion of belonging. Stretching her neck, she gave him better access to the vulnerability of her throat.

Jackson turned towards her and let his hand, painfully slowly, continue down the front of her blouse, just touching one of her nipples before resting on her belly, his warmth radiating through the thin material of her clothing.

It was almost a protective gesture, like a man would touch a woman carrying his child. Lisa didn't know where she got that thought from, but then there was no room for thoughts anymore as Jackson closed the distance between them and laid his other hand softly behind her neck, pulling her towards him. His unbelievably blue eyes carried a question and Lisa found herself more than willing to answer. Wrapping his arms around her, he let his full lips meet hers.

-

-

As the first rays of sun began to light up the skyline of San Francisco, Lisa and Jackson lost themselves in the smell, the taste, and the warmth of the other. It was like a missing piece of their puzzles had been found and completed their being.

Lisa blushed when he broke the kiss; her heart began pounding harder as he rose and hovered over her. Sinking down on his knees in front of her, he looked questioningly into her eyes. A million thoughts raced through her mind as she met his fiery eyes.

_Like liquid fire… a toxic flame…_

Jackson smiled, a soft and non-demanding smile, and then he laid his palms on each of her thighs, following their form up to her hips, where he stopped. The gesture was possessive, but soothing at the same time, and Lisa knew he could have done anything to her at that moment, because he had her.

He completely had her.

Cocking his head, he studied her, his thumbs stroking circular patterns on her legs. Then he leaned his head and laid it in her lap, closing his eyes. Lisa lifted a hand and held it in the air, hovering above his head, then she let it sink and touched his silky rich hair. Entwining his fingers in his locks, she thought she saw him smile.

They sat like that for an eternity.

Untouchable.

Blessed in the knowledge of belonging.

-

-

She broke the trance first, speaking into the slightly chilled morning air above his head, pulling the blanket tighter around her body. "I have questions."

He lifted his head and met her gaze, a very brief hint of worry flashed through his heart. "I know."

_I know you do. And I know I can't ever answer them all… I'll try, Leese… But there are some things that are better left unspoken of. Things I've done. Things my hands are capable of. You'd leave in a flash if you ever knew._

"I need to know… everything."

_Not everything, you don't, trust me._ "I'll tell you."

"I… I don't even know what to call you."

"Just… call me by my name."

"Which is…?"

"It's Jackson. I haven't… you know… I haven't lied to you, Leese." He winced and looked tormented for a brief moment. _What do you think of me, Leese?_

"Don't you live under some alias or something? Aren't you wanted?" She looked puzzled.

He got up and started pacing the patio in front of her. "No, there's nothing on me, I'm a free man." _There's nothing money and good contacts can't arrange. _

"How…? What will I find if I search in the files for Jackson Rippner?"

"You'll find that Jackson Elias Rippner was born in New York, New York, 30:th of April 1976 by Samantha Anne Rippner and Elias Arthur Rippner. There'll be a couple of parking fines and a car theft from when I was seventeen. No jail time."

"Elias…?" She tasted the name. "And will that be the truth?"

"Yes, it is." _THOSE parts are…_

She frowned. "Samantha and Elias Rippner?"

He stopped and pulled up his lips into a somewhat twisted smile. "Samantha was French, a beautiful belle de jour, who lived off Mr Rippner Sr. who was a diplomat. We moved from country to country during the first ten years of my life. I was born in New York, raised everywhere. Lived in Wisconsin in a foster home between ten and eighteen. I have no siblings."

"What happened?"

"I already told you."

-

-

'_Before I killed them'…_ She turned dead serious. "Jackson… did you kill your parents…?" She really didn't dare to ask, afraid of what he'd say, but at the same time that was the one crucial question she needed to get an answer to.

He regarded her. "Yes… but in the sense of the law… I guess no."

"I… don't understand."

He pulled his fingers through his hair and licked his lips. "They were always fighting. About her expenses, about his job, about her lovers, about his mistresses… occasionally about me." He grimaced. "All lies… they always lied to each other and to me…" His eyes narrowed as he seemed to lose himself in memories. "We were in a car, they argued about sending me off to a school… not whether to send me away or not, but if this school or that school was the better… I'd heard it before; I tried to say I didn't want to… I didn't want to. Looking back, that probably would've been the best. We fought; he yelled at me, I hit him. He was driving… I didn't have a seat belt on and was thrown out of the car… was found unconscious in the snow. They were burned beyond recognition… She in her expensive white gown, melted onto her body, and he in his suit… How ironic isn't it that they'd been arguing about her dress a few minutes earlier?"

Lisa shook her head, taken aback by the short and emotionless re-telling. "But… it wasn't intentional."

He snorted. "It happened."

"I'm so sorry."

"Why?"

"Well… it's normal to be."

"You didn't know them, Leese."

"I don't know YOU. You tried to kill me…"

"True. And I'm very happy I didn't succeed." He took one step closer. "You know, I have questions too."

"Ehm…OK."

"How come you came here?"

She grimaced and looked away for a moment, at the view over the bay, inhaling the fresh morning air. "I was curious."

"Curious?"

"Well… I… I have thought about you…"

He smiled and his blue eyes glittered as he crouched in front of her, levelling his gaze with hers. "Why?"

"Do we have to…?"

"I think we have to, yes…"

"I've never felt… you know. Before... I wanted to see you."

"You see me now."

She nodded with a lump in her throat. "Yes."

He shifted his stance. "You wanna come inside for a cup of tea and some toast?"

A soft smile spread across her cheeks. "Yes, please, I'm starving."

-

-

Jackson felt the strangest feelings of contentment. His heart jolted with happiness, and he knew enough to cherish the moment, because it had never been for him. Never before had someone come to him, seen him and still stayed.

He had never really thought he'd win this game, this battle between them. He'd never thought he'd be able to convince her to come to him. She was right; they were too different really. But at the same time they mended each other.

Made the other complete.

He knew that at some point his background would come back to haunt him, and there was nothing he could do about that.

_I don't ever want to see you turn away from me with contempt. _

_Everything would've been so much easier if I'd just… taken you… forced you. _

He stood and began walking to the rear door.

And for the first time in his life, Jackson was afraid.

For the first time, he had something he could lose.

-

-

As she got up and walked behind him into the house, the morning sun had grown stronger, and with it a frighteningly beautiful feeling of fulfilment spread inside her. Everything was new. This was a territory unthread by them both.

"Are you stealing me away, Jackson?" she asked to his back.

He stopped and turned to look at her. "I don't know, am I?"

The corner of her mouth lifted into a smile.

_You were long before you knew, Jackson Rippner._

_Long before._

-

-

THE END


End file.
